Unlikely Hero
by Joise
Summary: AU Set after “An Invisible Thread.” The newly established Company faces it new challenge as an old enemy comes back and takes one of their own. An unlikely hero emerges from the shadows to save Claire from an old threat.
1. Abducted

**Unlikely Hero**

By Joise

_Summary:_ AU Set after "An Invisible Thread." People with abilities are no longer in danger since Nathan had lobbied the President and House to pass the bill. The newly established Company faces it new challenge as an old enemy comes back and takes one of their own. An unlikely hero emerges from the shadows to save Claire from an old threat.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own a thing. Heroes and characters belong to Tim Kring and NBC.

**Chapter 1 Abducted**

"You won't regret this decision," Nathan Petrelli said as he shook the President's hand.

"I hope sake you're right," the President said as he brought his hand back, "You were the one that me that these people were dangerous."

"I was wrong," Nathan said, "People don't need abilities to inflict harm on the world. History has taught us well. Men who thrive in darkness and unleashed havoc in the world didn't have an ability. They were just power hungry."

"And what about those people with abilities who have the power to reek havoc and do so?"

"That's what the Company will do," Nathan assured the President, "Like it has been for the past decades under the radar. Those individuals with abilities that misuse their power to harm the general population will be imprisoned in a special cell made to hold them. Not all people with abilities need a cell."

"You have the backing of the United States of America," the President assured him, "We're trusting you to protect this country from people with abilities meant to harm this nation."

"Thank you Mr. President," Nathan said before making his exit. He was escorted outside and he looked around. When he didn't see any prying eyes he flew off to met his family and the rest of the newly developed Company. Nathan landed on the balcony of his mother's home and walked inside. He saw Peter, Matt Parkman, Noah Bennett, and his mother. His eyes continued to scan for someone most precious to him but she could not be found.

"How'd it go?" Noah asked when he saw Nathan walk in.

"Where's Claire?" Nathan asked as he yet found her. He saw Noah's body tense at the mention of her name but he dismissed it. Like all the other times he saw Noah tense up when he spoke about Claire, to Claire, or was near Claire. If he wasn't so concerned about her whereabouts, he might have investigated Noah's reaction more.

"She should be here soon," Peter said, "Her class at NYU just got out."

"I could go and get her," Nathan said, "get her home quickly." He didn't know why, but all week he had a feeling that Claire was in trouble. He remembered zoning out at his desk three days ago and when he woke up he found a drawing of a young woman who looked a lot like Claire and a gloved hand covering her mouth as the other hand had a needle in it. Since that drawing, he has been keeping a close eye on Claire. It was apparent someone was threatening his family. What he couldn't figure out was how someone could leave that painting on his desk with him sitting there and get away undetected.

"Don't be ridiculous Nathan," Angela said, "We'll catch her up when she gets here."

"You're right Ma," Nathan said as he walked over to his mother and kissed her on the cheek, "It's just there's a lot of crime…."

"It's New York City," Noah said, "when isn't there crime?" He looked at the man and was wondering what was going on. Was Sylar emerging or was _Nathan_ truly concerned for his daughter's well being.

"I think we've had enough of interrogating Nathan," Matt said as he walked up to Nathan, "Claire will be here in a few minutes so everyone can just focus on what happen with the President today."

"Well," Nathan said, "the President will no longer be funding the operation to hunt down people with abilities. He will be shifting the funds into the Company and we go back to…what do the kids call it, the 'old school' method of bag and tag the baddies."

"Oh thank God this nightmare is finally over!" Peter said with a huge grin, "No more running like we're criminals." Peter walked towards Nathan to hug his older brother when he started walking away when he got close to him. "Where are you going?" He tried not showing that his brother's obvious rejection didn't hurt or how Nathan never wanted to touch Peter since Sylar went up in flames.

"Change my clothes," he said, "I feel like a politician."

"Because you are one," Noah yelled out after him.

"Noah," Matt hissed, "Stop antagonizing him!" Matt retreated after Nathan. He was beginning to feel more like his babysitter than anything else. Matt had convinced Janice to move out to New York after Angela and Noah convinced him to make Sylar believe he was Nathan Petrelli. They wanted him close incase his services were needed again. So he moved his wife and child closer to the serial that would rather cut open his son's head for his ability than anything else. That thought alone terrified Matt, but he was too selfish to give up another moment of his son's life.

"I don't need a babysitter," Nathan said to Matt.

"Just checking to see if you're okay," Matt said with his hands up like he was surrendering, "that's all."

"When did we become best buds," Nathan said.

"What do you mean?" Matt said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I mean," He pressed on, "You all of a suddenly seem to care a lot about me than you ever did." Nathan said him hesitate so he continued, "You don't have a man crush on me do you Parkman? Because I'd hate to disappoint you but I'm into women…."

"What!" he yelled in horror, "God no!"

"Relax Parkman," Nathan said with a smile, "I was just kidding you." The Twilight Zone theme song started blaring from Nathan's phone. He smiled as he picked up the phone, "Claire," he said, "how was class?"

"I'm going to be late," she said, "I have to go to the library to get some books and meet up with members of my class. We're doing a group project."

"That is unacceptable," Nathan said, "it's already too late for you to be out by yourself."

"I'm fine," she said, "I'm almost to the library now."

"It's not safe," Nathan said, "there were three robberies just last week…"

"Sorry _dad_" she said sarcastically, "How about I let you pick me up when I'm done? Will that make this overly protective something go away?"

"Yes," Nathan said, "Call me when you're done and don't even think about walking home by yourself."

"Yes Sir!" she mocked her bio-dad again.

"Not funny," he hissed at her.

"Chill out," she said, "I'm walking up the steps of the library even as we speak and the world is still spinning."

"You annoy me with this little banter of yours," he said, "You know that right?"

"That's why I do it," Claire said, "I'll only be an hour tops."

"One hour," Nathan repeated."

"Yes, so please stop this over protective thing okay," she said, "I already have one dad that's overly protective. I was hoping you'd be the cool dad."

"I'm trying," he grunted out as a mental flash of that drawing popped into his mind.

"Try harder," Clare said, "Bye Nathan." Claire hung up the phone and was dropping it in her bag when a gloved hand covered her mouth stifling her screams as the other hand injected a needle into her neck.

"Sweet dreams," her attacker whispered in her ear.

The last moments of consciousness Claire wondered who her attacker could be and why her body wasn't healing itself from whatever drug she was injected with. Her bag fell from her shoulder as her world was overcome by darkness.

**Two hours later**

"You're making me dizzy," Peter said as he watched his brother pacing in front of him.

"She shouldn't have called by now," Nathan said, "She said she'd only be an hour."

"Nathan chill out," Peter said.

"Did you just say _chill out_?" he said stopping mid stride to stare at his brother, "You've been hanging around Claire too much."

"Whatever," he said rolling his eyes.

"I can't take this anymore," Nathan said heading towards the balcony, "I'm going to find her."

"Call her…"

"I've done that 25 times already!" Nathan yelled as he flew off the balcony towards the campus library. Nathan landed on the in an alley near the library. He strode into the library searching for Claire. He couldn't find her he started calling her cell phone. He could hear the sounds of the theme song to the Addams Family and smiled. He started walking towards down the stairs when Claire's voicemail picked up. He hung up and redialed, following the sound of Claire's ring tone. He walked outside the library and heard the sound coming a few feet away, "Claire?" he yelled walking towards the sound. His brain didn't even register the fact he shouldn't have heard it from the second floor on the other side of the library. He stopped when he saw her book bag and the theme song coming from inside. He picked up the bag and looked around, "Claire!" he yelled, "CLAIRE!" He flew up in the air and started scanning the neighborhood as he started living every parent's worst nightmare. He saw a girl with blonde hair talking to a boy a few blocks from the library he landed behind the boy and ran up to them. "Get your hands off my…" his voice trailed off when he pulled the young boy away from a blonde hair girl that looked nothing like Claire, "I'm sorry," he said, "I thought you were someone else." They young couple just stared at him, "I'm looking for my daughter, she's about this tall," he said raising his hand, "blonde hair, blue eyes, she goes by the name Claire."

"Claire Bennett?" the girl asked.

"Yes," he said with relief washing over her, "she was supposed to be home by now. She said she was at the library getting books and meeting her group."

"I'm Casey and this is Tommy," she said gesturing to the boy, "We're in her group for the project."

"When did she leave…"

"She never showed up," Tommy said, "she ditched and left us to do all the work."

"That doesn't sound like Claire," Nathan said trying to piece this puzzle together, "Are you sure…"

"I'm sorry Sir," Casey said, "but she never showed up."

"We called her and she's picked up the phone either," Tommy said.

"But I…" Nathan looked down at Claire's book bag and then back at the people, "Thanks." He mumbled as he walked away with a vision of that artwork dancing through his mind. The cell phone ringing interrupted his thoughts, "Hello."

"Nathan," Noah said, "put Claire on."

"She's not with me…."

"You answered her phone Petrelli," Noah hissed, "She's with you."

"She's gone," Nathan interrupted, "She never showed up at my house. I went to the library and found her things outside. I ran into her group, they told me Claire never showed."

"What are you saying?" Noah said, hoping this was just a nightmare that he can wake up from.

"Claire's missing."

* * *

Claire started to stir from her drug induced sleep. The first things that she noticed were the surgical equipment on a tray next to her. The second thing she noticed was that she was strapped down to a table. The last thing she noticed was that she was completely naked. She fought the tears back wondering what had happened to her when she blacked out and what was going to happen to her.

"Welcome back," a cold voice beside her said.

"Who are you?" she said with a trembling voice, "What do you want from me?"

Her attacker emerged from the shadows, "Revenge against your father."

Claire's gasped as she whispered, "Danko."

"Now the fun can begin," he said as he reached for the first surgical tool closest to him, "Don't worry your pretty little head about the nakedness; it just makes it easier to watch you bleed if those things aren't in the way. I'm really not a dirty old pervert."

Claire opened her mouth to retort but he had already started cutting from her shoulder all the way down to her big toe. She screamed from the pain and couldn't understand how she could feel pain again.

"Don't you just love the drugs," he remarked, "It's really quite interesting; it slows down your ability and gives you the opportunity to feel everything that I'm going to inflict on you." He gave her a sadistic smile, "You know I always was curious about your ability," he said, "Like for instance, if I were to cut out your heart, would you grow another one?" he asked her, "Let's find out shall we," he grabbed a scalpel and starting cutting her sternum.


	2. Missing

Special thanks to Estelle Stafford for beta reading this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Dudley Do-Right was created by Jay Ward Productions. I do not own it, just borrowing it.

**Chapter 2 Missing**

Danko stood next to Claire's dead body as he held the heart he had ripped from her body moments ago. He watched in fascination as her heart began to regenerate before his eyes. When he heard her gasp her first breath he gave her a sadistic smile, "That's very interesting," he said, "I'm going to have so much fun."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her eyes never met her captor but instead was fixated on her heart in his hand.

"I told you revenge," he said, "I'm going to get _revenge_on three men by breaking one woman."

Claire stared at him confused. She didn't have any idea who he was referring to. Was he talking about her father, Nathan, and Peter? She understood his hatred for her fathers, but she didn't think Peter would be a target. "I don't understand," she whispered as she finally looked at her capturer for the first time since her resurrection.

"You see I could torture and kill them, but it would be over in a blink of any eye" he grinned, "And where would the fun be in that?" He shook his head at the naivety of his captive. "But if I take the one person they care for most or obsess about and break her," he gave her another masochistic smirk, "Then I've managed to torture them for the rest of their miserable lives." His smirk broke out into a grin, "And your counterpart doesn't die. So an eternity of suffering is the icing on the cake." His smile widen like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, "Can you imagine the joy of watching three pitiful souls try and piece you back together?"

"I can heal…"

"We all know that your body can heal the physical wounds but can it fix your broken psyche?" He smirked at her, "I am going to break the unbreakable girl. It's really quite poetic when you think about it."

Claire turned her head away as she tried to keep her tears at bay. She felt his hands push her sternum back together and then her skin. Her body was doing what it does naturally, it heals. She couldn't help but wonder if he was right. Could he damage her psychologically? Would her body heal from the abuse like it would if he stabbed her? She felt fabric cover her body. Through her peripheral vision she could tell it was a sheet. At least he would give her this much dignity. Her thoughts went wild as she tried to imagine what he would do to her that made him confident he would break her for eternity. Something that would torture the eternal hero that was Peter Petrelli...when something clicked in her mind: _"Peter won't live forever,"_ she thought to herself. She looked back at Danko with her brow creased in confusion as he placed her heart in a box. He sealed it shut with tape and then wrote an address on it.

"A present for your daddies," he answered her unspoken question.

"There's a flaw in your plan," she told him, as she reached deep down to gather all of her strength to start fighting back.

"Oh really?" he said, "I'd love to know the flaw a nineteen year old girl found in a minute after hearing my master plan?"

He was mocking her and she knew it. She narrowed her eyes at the world's most disturbed man and said, "Peter won't live forever."

Danko tilted his head to the side as he looked at her, "And?" he said as he was unable to mask his confusion from his tone.

"How can you torture him for eternity when his life has an expiration date to it?"

"Who said I was referring to Peter?" Danko said.

"You did," she said. "You are going after my dad, Nathan, and Peter for what they did to you. Those are the only three men in my life that love me that you would have a grudge against." Claire watched as he shook his head at her and made a tisk sound from his lips. It made her feel as if she was five years old again and in trouble with her teacher.

"I didn't say they all loved you Claire," Danko said, "In fact I did tell you that one was obsessed with you."

"I don't…"

"Noah Bennett," Danko interrupted her as he had no patience to listen to her confused ramblings, "left me practically for dead after whoever his cohort was injected me with enough tranquilizers to put down an elephant. After giving a false sense of camaraderie when we were imprisoned together and let's not forget he was always trying to sabotage me when he was MY partner."

"You were hunting down innocent people you psycho!" she shouted at him, "Of course he would…" She was silenced when he slapped her in the face.

"Didn't either of your daddies tell you it's rude to interrupt a man while he's talking!"

"I don't see a man here," she responded. Her remark was rewarded with another slap in the face.

"Nathan Petrelli cost me my career," Danko said, "No one will touch me after what he did to my reputation."

"That's because you are seriously deranged!" she said. Danko punched her in the face this time, she heard her nose crack. She could feel her body slowly starting to heal itself.

"They will spend their lives watching you waste away and know that there is nothing they can do to help you," Danko sneered at her, "Try and try as they may, never will they save their precious Claire." Danko looked down at Claire, "What no smart remark?" he asked her as he leaned closer to her, "Or is that pretty little head of yours racing with ideas of how I'm going to break you?"

She spit in his face, "You're sick!"

He slowly stood up and wiped the spit from his face before backhanding her, "You're feisty I'll give you that," he said, "Maybe that's what he sees in you."

"Who?"

"Sylar."

"What does Sylar have to do with any of this?" Claire said, "I hate him and he hates me."

"No he doesn't," he said, "You're that shiny toy the neighborhood kid has but won't share. You might hate him but he doesn't hate you. He doesn't love you either. He's obsessed with you." Danko paused to let her process what he just said. "He doesn't want you, but he doesn't want anyone else to have you either. He wants you alone and untouched by anyone but him. He's so fascinated by you, trying to figure you out." He got closer to her, "But you knew that already. That's why he's always there when you turn around. He's there watching you, waiting to make his next move. The toy he gets to play with for all eternity and I'm the one that will break his favorite toy."

"I still don't understand…"

"He took away my freedom with the abilities I helped him collect!" Danko snapped at her ignorance, "He played me like a puppet and cut my strings when he was done with me. Well now, I'm going to destroy his favorite toy!" His voice rose until he was screaming at the end of his tyrant. "He will suffer all eternity as he watches his obsession deteriorate as he tries over and over again to _fix_ something I made _unfixable_!" he screamed the last part in her ear. He took a deep breath and whispered in her ear, "That will be my ultimate revenge against the men in your life. The two that love you and the one who's most likely to be forever fixated on you." He smiled at her, but it slowly dropped as Claire started smiling. He frowned when she started laughing, "What's so funny."

"Your plan sucks," Claire said, "Sylar is dead."

"You're lying!" Danko said, "That man is like a cockroach. He will survive anything, including a nuclear war!"

"I watched his body burn myself," Claire said, "He's nothing but ashes." She continued laughing at him. She couldn't stop because if she did, she knew she would start crying. She was completely terrified of what he had planed for her because he was so sure he would leave lasting effects in her life.

"Nighty, night bitch," he said as took a stake and shoved it in the back of her head. He watched as her eyes clouded over. She laid dead with a smile still on her face. He grabbed his package and went to the door. He walked four blocks to meet a bike messenger. He handed him the package and money, "I put an extra $50 in there," Danko said, "make sure they open the package before you leave."

"Will do," the bike messenger said.

Danko watched him peddled off for a few seconds before walking back where to he came from. He needed to move locations before the bike messenger delivered the package.

* * *

**Angela Petrelli's apartment, 6 hours after Claire was discovered missing**

Nathan landed on the balcony and walked quickly into the building.

"Did you find her?" Peter asked Matt as he walked in the front door with Noah.

"No," Matt said, "I tried to get the security tapes from the campus library but they wouldn't hand them over without a warrant."

"I don't want to involve the police yet," Noah said, "it could be too dangerous for her. This is what the Company is formed to do."

"Couldn't you do that mind thing?" Peter asked.

"I have a massive headache," Matt said, "I can't do that mind thing with it."

"Take some aspirin then," Nathan said throwing the bottle at Matt's head. He caught it inches before it hit him in the forehead.

"Why didn't I think of that before," Matt said sarcastically, "Oh wait, I did and maxed out on the recommended dosage hours ago!"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Nathan said, "I have the footage we need from the library around the time I called Claire to when I went to the library."

"How?" Noah asked suspiciously.

"I have better powers of persuasion than Dudley Do-Right over there," Nathan bit back.

"You're frick'n hilarious Nathan." Matt mumbled to himself as he popped two more. He noticed Nathan glaring at him. Matt was wondering briefly how he heard him when...his thoughts were interrupted.

"I don't know about you but I'm going to watch this and not continue to waste my time twiddling my thumbs," Nathan said as he walked towards Angela's DVD player with the disk in hand. He put it in the player and pushed play. He grabbed the remote and pushed fast forward and studied the screen waiting for Claire's image to appear. Nathan noted that Parkman and Bennett followed him to the living room as Peter took a phone call on a possible lead to Claire. He pushed play when he saw her walking up to the library talking on her mobile phone. He saw her smile at something she heard as he replayed their conversation in his head. He heard the door bell ring and dropped the remote as he raced to the door. He saw Peter rushing to the door but beat him by a few seconds, "Claire…" he trailed off when the door opened to reveal a messenger, "What do you want?"

"I have a package for Senator Nathan Petrelli and Noah Bennett," he said as he pushed the clipboard to Nathan. Nathan quickly signed for the package.

"Who is it?" Noah said coming to the door.

"Messenger with a package for us," Nathan said as the messenger handed him the package. It was like a flash. Nathan saw everything that the box had been used for, ending with the heart being placed in the box. He dropped the package and grabbed the messenger by the collar, hoisting in the air with strength no man could possibly possess. "Where is she!" he growled.

"I know who took her!" Matt yelled at the same time as Nathan pinned the messenger to the wall, "Danko…what's going on?"

"Put him down Nathan!" Noah ordered as he tried to release Nathan's grip on the messenger.

Peter bent down and picked up the box. He studied the writing and couldn't come up with the connection that Nathan had, that _this_ had something to do with Claire. He tore it open and threw up when he saw what was inside.

"Peter what's wrong?" Matt said coming to his aid. He noticed Peter gesture to the box and looked inside, "Oh my God! What has Danko done to her!"

Noah turned his head to see what they were talking about, "What about Danko?" he looked at the open package and his heart broke. Danko had his daughter. He knew her ability and the bastard sent him his daughter's heart on a silver platter. "What kind of sick bastard is he!"

Nathan felt Noah let go of him, he didn't need to look at the box. He knew the second he held it what was inside. When he heard Matt say 'Danko', the pieces came together in his mind. With his right hand he slammed the messenger into the wall and pointed his left finger at the petrified young man's forehead. "Where is she!"

"I don't know who she is," he said terrified at this man's ungodly strength, "A man told me to deliver a package. I deliver a package." The messenger's eyes widen as he felt his airway starting to close in on him. He started gasping for breath.

"Where did you get the package from?" Nathan demanded.

"Let him down Nathan," Matt said as the messenger whispered the address.

Nathan dropped the messenger and ran to the balcony. Matt chased after him but he wasn't fast enough. He watched Nathan take off flying south before he disappeared from his sight. He ran back to the man who was desperately trying to catch his breath. "What did you tell him?"

It took Nathan a few minutes to reach the destination. He landed and looked around. It was a rough neighborhood full of broken down houses. He scanned his surroundings looking for the ideal place he would have held a captive. Nathan noticed a run down warehouse that was isolated from the rest of the community a few blocks away. He took running and reached the door in a few minutes. There was a broken window that he got access to the warehouse. He quickly scanned the room and noticed a door at the other side of the room. Nathan flew to the door only to find it locked. He slammed his body against the door, "Claire!" he yelled. The rational side of him told him that he should be quiet like a mouse and try to find another way into the room. But there was a monster deep inside of him that challenged anyone that dared cross his path. He was about to slam into the door again, when he heard the lock click and the door opened without his assistance. He was in a defensive stance ready to strike whatever was on the other side of the door. He held his arms down with his palms facing forward. If he hadn't been so focused on his mission to find Claire, he might have noticed small bolts of blue lightening coming from his hands. "Claire!" he yelled. All he found was an empty room with a table in the middle. Nathan saw blood and new it was Claire's. He touched the table and was flooded with memories of what happened there. He withdrew his hands off the table as if it had burned him. He looked around and saw a note on the floor. It was short and he didn't know that three words could have caused so much damage to one's heart.

"Nathan!" Matt said as he touched his shoulder, "did you find something?" Nathan held the note up for Matt. He grabbed the paper and read, _"You're too late."_


	3. Danko's Care Package

**Chapter 3 Danko's **_**Care**_** Package**

_Four Weeks Since Claire's Abduction_

As Sandra pulled into her driveway she felt like she was running in circles with her soon to be ex-husband, "I want to speak to Claire," she demanded.

"I told you she was on assignment," Noah lied. He hated doing it. When he had started lying to her, he firmly believed that his daughter was going to be found in a matter of days. Now it's been four weeks and he is not sure what to say. "It's confidential and top secret." He pulled off his rimed horn glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's only in contact with her handler, that's it."

"If you think I'm going to buy that line of bullshit from you again then you're kidding yourself," she told him. She turned off her ignition and got out of her car. "I want to know where my daughter is and I want to speak to her, NOW!"

"Sandra…."

"Noah!" Matt called as he rushed into the room, "Peter might have found a lead…"

"I have to go," Noah told Sandra before handing up on her. He quickly slid his glasses back on.

"In Jacksonville, FL," Matt explained, "Danko's picture came up on a security camera."

"How did Peter…"

"Not so much Peter," Matt finished the question when he showed Noah a drawing that Sylar did of the future. "Peter found it on Nathan's desk and traced it to the gas station. He found video footage of Danko that makes this picture, and Nathan claims that someone keeps leaving them these clues. We need to…"

"Do not say it Parkman," Noah warned, "I _will _not have this conversations with you again. Sylar is a dangerous man! He stays as Nathan Petrelli."

"Even if that means we could find Claire tomorrow."

"Sylar wouldn't help us," Noah said with conviction, "It is better that Nathan thinks someone is leaving these drawings behind. We cannot let Sylar loose"

"But…"

"Sylar only cares about himself," Noah ordered, "He would kill us all and take Claire for himself."

"Noah's right," Angela stated as she walked into the room, "I saw it in my dreams." She glanced at the former policeman and continued, "When Sylar emerges, he will go straight for Claire."

"We need him," Matt argued, "Everyone thinks he is dead."

"And it will stay that way," Angela insisted.

"Molly _cannot_ find Claire on the map," Matt pressed on, "and when she does, Claire is gone just as fast."

"We'll find her." Noah stated confidently.

"How?" Matt asked rhetorically, "Danko is crazy, not stupid. He knows this Company inside and out. He knows who has what ability and how to hide from it. We need to use the weapon that Danko would never see coming." Matt took a deep breath as he switched in train of thought, "Because of his regeneration everyday a little more of him comes to the surface. We need to let Sylar out."

"If you suspect that animal is crawling out of the hole you put him in," Noah snarled, "You put him back down in it."

"He can help us find Claire…"

"You don't get it Parkman," Noah said, "I will not trade Claire from a psychopath to a sociopath." He looked at Angela briefly before turning back to Matt, "I'll cover that dog in bullet holes before I will let it loose to go after Claire." Noah turned away from Matt and started walking out of the room. "If you suspect anything, you put that dog down or I will!" he ordered.

"You have to tell Sandra, she needs to know what happened to her daughter," Matt yelled after him.

"That is none of your concern," Noah stated as he left to have a phone conference with Peter about his findings. Angela followed closely behind him.

Matt didn't agree with Noah or Angela. He knew Sandra deserved to know the truth about Claire, especially since Danko's goal was to have her come back damaged beyond repair. And as for Sylar, watching _Nathan _these past four weeks, he didn't know if Nathan would be like this towards her. He observed Nathan sweeping a room with such care and calculation that would surpass any police officer he ever knew. And most importantly, Parkman knew that wasn't Nathan's cold and calculating eyes. Nathan was emotional and irrational. Nathan acted before thinking. Nathan could be easily led astray by something shiny placed in front of him. Sylar was calculating and rational. Sylar would not be distracted from his mission at hand. Sylar rarely made mistakes because he was always planning, always calculating his next move before he made it. Matt Parkman could see Sylar crawling out of the prison he placed him in. He sees pieces of Sylar daily, especially when _Nathan_ finds clues to Claire's whereabouts. "God forgive me," Matt whispered to an empty room, "But the one thing Sylar does well, is find Claire no matter how hard she hides. It's like it's an ability of his to zone in on Claire whenever he wants." Matt went in search for his other members of the Company to hear about the latest Claire update. He walked into the room and eyes landed on Nathan, _emotional _Nathan, not calculating Sylar.

* * *

_Costa Verde_

Sandra stared at the phone in disbelief, "That bastard!" She reached her front door and found a package addressed to her. "He did NOT just hang up on me!" Sandra picked up the package and went inside. She threw the package on her table as she searched for her phone book. Sandra found it in Noah's office and looked up the phone number for the airline. She walked back into the living room as she waited.

"San Diego International Airport this is Emily," she said, "How may I assist you today?"

"Hi Emily," Sandra said politely, "I need a ticket for your first flight to New York."

"Which airline…"

"It doesn't matter," Sandra quickly interrupted her, "Whatever one gets me there fastest." She paused realizing how desperate to get out of the city she sounded. "I think something happened to my daughter," she continued, "I haven't heard from her in a month. She won't return my calls. I just…" Sandra wipe away a few tears that escaped. "I'm sorry; I just need to see her with my own two eyes."

"Its okay ma'am," Emily responded, "Kennedy Airport, LaGuardia or Newark?"

"LaGuardia." Sandra could hear the keys typing in the background.

"I can book you for the Delta Air Lines 734 that leaves in 4 hours," Emily told her.

"I'll take it." Sandra replied as she gave Emily her credit card and any other information. She went to the table and picked up the package. Sandra ripped open the package and pulled out a DVD with "_play me"_ scribbled on top. Sandra didn't recognize the handwriting but she had a feeling this might have something to do with Claire. Sandra quickly walked to the DVD player. As she placed the DVD in the player she turned on the television. She took a few steps back and sat by the coffee table. A few moments later, a face appeared that she barely recognized.

"_Hello Sandra," Danko said with an impish grin. "I have something of yours. But I promise to return it to you when I'm done."_

Sandra felt her heart clench in her chest. She wasn't sure what he was talking about. She couldn't tell where he was but noticed something covered in white behind him. Sandra couldn't make it out.

"_I have recently obtained a new toy," Danko smirk, "Or did I steal someone else's favorite toy?" He paused for effect, "Well, you know what they say, finders keepers..." Danko took a few steps back but still kept his focus on the camcorder, "I myself have always been a curious person," he turned his back and walked next to a table revealing the white sheet to his audience. "For instance, how long is the small intestine and why is it called the small intestine if it's bigger than the large intestine." He grabbed the sheet and pulled it off Claire and rested it on the lower portion of her body, only exposing the top half of her body._

Sandra's breath caught in her throat and her hands covered her mouth at the sight of her daughter's beaten and naked body before her.

"_Amazing isn't it?" Danko told the camera, "I found this serum that slows down her ability but still allows her to heal." He smiled down at Claire who stared up with a blank expression on her face. "Thanks to me," he continued, "this beautiful creature can feel everything that I inflict on her. I heard that Sylar took away your ability to feel pain." He leaned down to her ear, "I bet you wish you still had his parting gift." He left out a __villainous__ laugh before directing himself back to his camera. "What was I going to do again?" He crossed his arms and tapped his finger to his chin, 'That's right," he had a faux remembrance expression on his face. "I was going to measure your intestines!"_

Sandra watched him grab the scalpel and started to cut into her. She closed her eyes and covered her ears when she heard her daughter scream. The only thoughts racing through her head was how long was Claire missing? How could she not know? And lastly, how she was going to kill her soon to be ex-husband from keeping this from her? Sandra realized the screaming had stopped, she knew what that meant. Her daughter was dead, for what number at this monster's hands, she didn't know. She dared to open her eyes and noticed Claire's intestines were on the floor.

"_Small intestines are 23 feet long and the large intestine only 5 feet. I feel mislead by the name, don't you?" Danko said, "I'll leave these here for your husband to find," Danko responded, 'Because I'm sure he's dying to know the answer as well." Danko smiled into the camera, "Be sure to give Noah my love and let him know that he's too late…….AGAIN!"_

The screen went blank as Sandra quickly retrieved the DVD. "You are dead Noah Bennett," she threatened under her breath. Sandra put the DVD in her purse and ran upstairs to pack. In a few minutes she was out the door and on her way to San Diego International Airport.

* * *

_8 hours later_

Sandra stepped out of her cab in front of the apartment building that housed Nathan Petrelli. Sandra told by Noah that Nathan was in New York and Noah was playing his guard dog. Now she knew the truth, they were teaming up to find her daughter. Sandra was furious and there would be hell to pay. She was briefly stopped by the doorman who let her up after hearing she was Mr. Noah Bennett's wife. A technicality that Sandra would be taking care of as soon as her daughter is back safely in her arms. The elevator ride felt like forever, but it finally stopped at the Petrelli floor. She walked to the apartment and knocked on the door. Sandra prayed to the Lord Almighty that Noah would answer.

"Sandra?" Noah asked when he opened the door, "What are you doing here?"

"Thanking God for answering one of my prayers."

"What…" Noah wasn't able to finish his statement because Sandra punched him straight in the nose. His hands went to his injured nose and he could feel blood coming out of it, "What the hell was that for!"

"My daughter was kidnapped and you didn't tell me!" Sandra shrieked at him, "You deserve a hell of a lot more than that!"

Angela, Nathan, and Matt came rushing into the room at the sound of their voices. Matt couldn't hide his grin as he pieced together what had happened, _"Nice one Sandra!"_ he thought to himself. In all honesty he was jealous. He wanted to be the one to punch Noah in the face for weeks now.

"Sandra please come in," Angela stated, "I believe you have something for the investigation."

"Why would you think that?" Sandra challenged.

"Because of the greeting you gave him and your lack of appearance until now, I'm assuming Noah decided to keep you in the dark. Which means Danko gave you what he likes to call a _care package_. Since you are the only one left that didn't get something from him, all rational thought points to you have something from this obviously deranged man."

"How could you not tell me?" she whispered, her anger had fled from her body.

"I was trying to protect you," Noah said, "I thought we'd get her after a few days but when a month went by…"

"A month!" Sandra yelled as her anger resurfaced and she sucker punched him in the stomach.

"As much as I appreciate Noah's ass getting kicked," Nathan said in a cold tone, "especially after everything he's done to me in the past."

Matt took notice that Nathan was sounding like Sylar and appeared to be recalling the imprisonments as Sylar.

"I would like to find your daughter," Nathan continued as he held out his hand, "So if you could please give me what the psychopath refers to as a _care package_. It needs to be reviewed. Time is the essence and you've wasted too many hours already on that flight."

Sandra opened her mouth to scold Nathan Petrelli as well, but his cold harsh chocolate brown eyes silenced her rebellion. She reached into her purse and pulled out the DVD. Sandra immediately slapped Noah's hand away and gave it to Nathan.

"Thank you," he said as he turned around, "Mother," he greeted Angela as he went into the living room.

"Mr. Parkman," Angela said, "I think Nathan could use your detective skills."

Matt walked after Nathan as he heard Sandra ask Noah how he could be such an insensitive bastard. Matt rubbed his forehead as he heard two minds screaming at him to push Sylar back into the prison of Nathan's body. When he reached the room he noticed that Nathan was taking notes from the video. He could hear Claire's screams and wonder how he could be so distant from it.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to stare?" Nathan said.

Matt didn't know how Nathan knew he was in the room, he didn't make a sound and he was barely in his peripheral vision.

"Try breathing through your nose," Nathan responded to Matt's unspoken question, "I can hear you breathing a mile away."

Matt noted that Sylar's hearing ability had resurfaced, "What do you have so far?" Matt noted when Nathan turned his head, it was Sylar's cold calculating eyes staring back at him.

"I think I might have a location," Nathan said, "I'm so close, but I can't put that last piece together."

"Really?" Matt said sitting down next to him. He knew what he should do, but Sylar was close to finding the location of this video he couldn't do it. His desperation to find Claire out weighed the need to keep Sylar in prison.

"I can't let this happen again."

"What happen again?"

"I can't let what happened to Cassie happen to Claire," Nathan said, "I can't."

Matt tried to read Nathan's mind to see who was talking about this Cassie but his search was interrupted.

"I think she's …."

"_We're coming to the living room in a minute; you better have put that dog down!"_

"Nathan," Matt said getting his attention, "You are Nathan Petrelli…"

* * *

"I can't believe you didn't tell me our daughter was kidnapped!" Sandra shook her head in disbelief, "You can't keep deciding what you think I can and cannot handle. Because let me tell you," her voice began to raise with each word, "What I cannot handle is you trying to filter my life!"

"Sandra," Noah said.

"We are done!" Sandra said, "I will file for divorce as soon as my daughter is found. I will not be your toy you play with anymore!" Sandra stormed into the living room to hear her daughter screaming, Matt running to Nathan who just put his hand through the glass window.

"What happened?" Angela asked as she motioned for Noah to run and get the first aid kit.

"What do you think happened?" Matt responded bitterly, "You're son is irrational, easily manipulated, and reacts before thinking." He didn't mean to say it out loud, but he needed to tell them what they were continuously asking him to do…trade a tracker for a wayward child.

"Shut up Parkman," Nathan said pulling his hand out of the window, "I'm fine Ma." He gave his mother a warm smile as Angela quickly tended to the wound before Sandra or Nathan noticed his hand was already healing. She quickly grabbed the first aid kit that Noah brought in and tended to Nathan's wounds. She wrapped his hand with speed she did not know she possessed.

"All better," she said giving his _injured_ hand a motherly kiss.

Nathan walked over to the television and picked up the notebook he was writing on only moments ago, "I take back every mean thing I ever said or thought about you Parkman."

"Why is that?"

"You almost have her location," Nathan said showing him the notebook.

"That's your notes," Matt responded.

"Can't be," Nathan dismissed him.

"It is," Matt insisted.

"It's not my handwriting," Nathan informed the younger man, "and you're the policeman, not me. You pick up details like this while all I could see is my daughter in agony." Nathan paused to take a deep breath, "Could you not pinpoint it exactly?"

"No," Matt said, "sorry." He gave a quick look to Noah to let him know how close Sylar was to finding the location of the latest documentation of Claire's assaults. Danko had promised to leave something behind as well and Matt believed it was more than just Claire's intestines.

"How long will you be with us Sandra?" Nathan asked.

"I don't know," Sandra said, "I told that woman from the airline it was an emergency. All I cared about was getting here, not the return." She fished through her purse until she pulled out a ticket. "Two weeks."

"Let me show you to the room you'll be staying in."

"I don't…"

"I insist," Nathan said holding the bend of his elbow to her, which she gladly accepted, "Parkman, get her bags would you."

Matt rolled his eyes but did what he was told. He didn't want to be stuck in a room with either Noah or Angela. And it would probably be for the best to keep Noah and Sandra apart, give them time to cool off. "We're presently waiting on Peter to return from Florida," Matt said, "It was another dead end. We will regroup later and go over Na…my notes from the video." Matt felt bad for the woman, and wanted to update her on everything she missed on Claire. When he reached the pair his whispered to Sandra, "I promise to keep you informed every step of the way."

Sandra turned to him with grateful eyes, "Thank you."

* * *

Claire gasped another first breath, the first thing she noticed was her bonds were gone, but she had very little space to move. Claire felt something hard underneath her and the stench was over whelming. She opened her eyes and noticed a small light from the glow sticks. She looked up and around and started pounding her hands on the top of her newest prison. She couldn't get the top open and shifted her weight when she felt something poke into her back. She looked behind her and screeched. Danko had buried her alive with a rotting corpse. "Somebody please help me!" she screamed over and over again. She didn't know how long she had been in here but noticed the light starting to fade and it was getting harder to breathe.


	4. A Mother's Desperate Wish

**Chapter 4 A Mother's Desperate Wish**

_Six weeks since Claire's Abduction_

Nathan and Matt were hovered over Nathan's desk with all of the drawings and clues they have gathered from their countless failed attempts to find Claire. Neither one notices the girl's mother who goes quietly into the room to observe the men in question. Matt was moving around some of the papers as if he was trying to piece everything together, while Nathan stands idly by as she perceives that his eyes were a lighter shade of brown today. Over the past two weeks she discerns that his eyes change color to match his mood. When they were light brown like today, Nathan was pretty much useless, and did nothing but wait to be told what to do. But when his eyes were chocolate brown, he was focus and giving directions on where Danko could be heading next. The second version of Nathan was more intense, more fixated on finding Claire. She did not believe Nathan had a split personality but if he did...she wanted the second version of him to come out to play more often. Sandra also caught on immediately that wherever Nathan was, Matt was close behind. In fact, Noah and Angela were also tracking his every movement. She figured out quickly the second night she was in New York when they all panicked when Nathan and her were on that little trip.

_Sandra was in Nathan's town car for almost five hours now. She didn't know where she was going or why she was there. Nathan's driver Charles had instructed her that the elder Mr. Petrelli had requested her attendance. She went into the car as instructed and now nearly five hours later, she felt it stop. The door opened to reveal a milk chocolate brown eyed Nathan Petrelli extending his hand to Sandra. She slid her hand into his and allowed him to escort her into an abandoned building. They walked into the open door of the building. "Nathan, what are we doing here?"_

"_This was the second building I found that Danko was holding Claire hostage in," Nathan explained to her._

_Sandra looked at the man with wide eyes, "Why am I here?"_

"_I know you are very angry at your husband," Nathan said, "for keeping you in the dark about everything. Out of common decency, I will not disclose the horror I found in this room and I respectfully request you do not ask me to share that information. No mother should have to endure that…no child of hers either." Nathan got quiet as he looked around the room._

_Sandra watched him with a hawk-eye as she observed he was struggling to not remember what was in this room. She took note that he also would not touch anything in the room. As if the mere touch of it would bring him back to the day he first walked in the room. A cold shiver quickly ran through her body as countless horrific images ran through her mind of what Senator Nathan Petrelli could have walked in to that would make him literally sick at the memory of it. _

"_Danko is one sick crazy son of a bitch, there is no doubt in my mind about that," Nathan continued bringing Sandra's attention back to him and driving her thoughts away, "but he's not stupid. He knows our abilities and he knows how to keep under the radar. I think Bennett and Angela are underplaying how intelligent Danko really is."_

"_Angela?" Sandra asked as she wondered if she heard him correctly. Did he really just address his mother by her first name?_

"_Yeah," Nathan said, "Ma seems to think her dreams will find Claire. But her dreams are not useful to us. They involve things that do not include Claire or so I am told."_

"_Why are you telling me all of this?"_

"_You are the girl's mother," Nathan said, "Bennett was wrong. He shouldn't have kept this from you. And I wanted you to be aware of what we are dealing with." Nathan turned his attention back to the older woman. "I promise you I will do __**everything**__ in my power to bring her home to you…not Bennett, but __**you**__."_

"_Thank you," Sandra replied, "Nathan…" She was interrupted by the sound of Nathan's cell phone. _

"_Excuse me," Nathan told Sandra as he took the call, "Parkman what do you have?...I'm with Sandra….I took her to Syracuse ….well I don't care what Bennett says he doesn't own her…I….you found what?....I'll be right there….Charles will take her home…bye." Nathan hung up the phone and directs his attention back to Sandra. He put his hand on her elbow and guides her towards the door and to the town car. "Parkman might have a lead on Claire. I'm going to fly back there and help out. Charles will take you back. If you get tired, he was instructed to pull over and pay for a hotel…"_

"_Go," Sandra instructed, "We'll be fine."_

"_Take good care of her Charles," Nathan said, "She's very important to Claire." With that, Nathan flew into the sky and back to New York._

_Sandra watches him leave and shortly after she sees a shooting star. She closes her eyes and did something that she has not done since she was a child. She made a wish. Sandra did end up staying the night at a hotel only for Charles' sake. It was getting late and it would have been a long drive. When she got back to the Petrelli apartment the next day, she notices Nathan's confidence and demeanor has changed along with the shade of brown his eyes._

"Matt," Sandra said getting the attention of the two men. She sees Nathan's eyes were now a darker shade of brown since she walked into the room.

"Yes Sandra?" Matt asked.

"I was hoping you would take me to the airport," Sandra inquired, "I would rather die than be stuck in a car with Noah or Angela. No offense Nathan."

"None taken," Nathan responds as he moves more pieces around, never really giving the older woman his full attention and she would have been offended if his fixation was not on finding her daughter.

"There you are Sandra," Noah said coming into the room, "Come on, we need to leave for the airport if you are to make your flight."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Sandra stated coldly, "Matt will take me."

"Parkman…"

"Noah," Matt said cutting him off, "the lady asked for me to take her and I will take her." He paused wondering if he really wanted to add fuel to this inferno. "Can you really blame her after what you put her through?"

Noah scowls at him and was about to retaliate when Nathan cut him off.

"Really Ladies," he says as he walks towards the two men, "don't you think we have more important issues to attend to then to sit around squabbling like little school girls?"

"Nathan's right," Angela stated as she saunters into the room, "our focus needs to be on Claire right now."

"You two little delinquents can continue this display of testosterone later," Nathan commanded as he went back to the desk.

Noah grits his teeth at Nathan as he continues to undermine him in front of his wife. It also did not please him to see his wife walking after the condescending jackass.

"Nathan," Sandra said, "I don't mean to intrude." She noticed he dropped the papers he was looking at and gave her his undivided attention. Sandra observed his eyes went from milk chocolate to dark chocolate in the span of five minutes.

"You can never be a nuisance Sandra," Nathan remarks as he grabs a hold of her hands gently placing his other hand on top of hers, "Are you sure you don't want to stay longer? I do have a private jet that will take you home at a moment's notice."

"I'm sure," Sandra told him, "As much as it pains me to say this, Noah is right. The last place Claire was at was closer to Costa Verde than here. I want to be at home if she manages to get away and goes there. Besides, Lyle will be coming home soon from camp." She raised her free hand and patted the top of Nathan's before he releases her hands.

"I never pictured Lyle as the camp dork," Nathan sneered in a Sylar like tone.

Sandra gave him a cross look as she defends her son, "It's a summer camp for children with special needs," she instructed the Senator, "He is a camp counselor and the more volunteers like him, the more children can attend camp."

"Mother," Nathan directed over Sandra's shoulder, "we need to make a donation to that camp. All children should have the opportunity to spend some of their summer roughing it outdoors."

"Sure dear," Angela replied as she traded a worried look with Noah.

"It was good to see you again Sandra," Nathan stated, "I wish it would have been under better circumstances."

"Again?" Sandra asked, "This is our first meeting."

"That is correct," Nathan agreed quickly, "I guess listening to Bennett talk about you over three years, it felt like I had met you already."

"That's quite alright," she said as she extended her hand to him, "thank you for everything. For taking me there and for telling me what you could. I know it wasn't easy for you to be there."

Nathan shivered at the memory of the amount of blood that was scattered all over _that _warehouse. His need for vengeance grew with each passing day. He shook his head at her as he pulled her into an embrace. "I promise you Sandra," he whispered into her ear, "I will get out of this prison and I will get your daughter back to you."

Sandra looked at him perplexed at his statement of getting out of this prison. She ran several reasons through her head and the only one that made sense to her was her goodbye was keeping him from following a lead that would free Claire from Danko and in return free everyone from this nightmare as well. "Thank you," she whispered back to the man. "Matt," Sandra said, "I'm ready when you are."

Matt nodded to Sandra as he looked back at Nathan; Sylar was clawing his way back to the surface. He knew what he was directed to do, _put the dog back down_ as Noah would say. Matt's only regret today was the amount of work wasted during Sandra's goodbye. Nathan will be useless in about 30 seconds. He asked Sandra for a few moments and when she left the room he went to Nathan, "Nathan," he said getting the older man's attention, "You are Nathan Petrelli…"

Sandra noticed that Noah had grabbed a suitcase, and smiles, remembering her first night here when she opened her suitcase to realize all she packed was her sock drawer in a hurry to get to New York. Nathan's generosity extended to clothes and toilettes as well. Sandra did not know if she could ever repay this kindness. "Thank you for everything, Angela."

"You are Claire's mother," she stated, "and that makes you family. I would do anything for my family."

"And that's not just a statement," Matt mumbled sarcastically as he came in at the end of their conversation. Angela gave him a disapproving look as he raised his voice, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Sandra answered as she followed Matt out the door. She knew it was a waste of manpower to ask Matt to accompany her to the airport when Charles could take her himself. But she felt like he needed to be here.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Matt asked.

She smiled at the younger man and pushed the button to bring the divider up. "I was thinking about Nathan and the night he took me to the warehouse."

"What happened that night?" Matt inquires, "Neither one of you would speak of it."

"Did you ever notice Nathan seems to have a split personality?"

"Excuse me?"

"It seems his whole demeanor changes with the shade of his eye color."

"I'm sorry, I'm not following," Matt replied as inwardly he was panicking. Did Sylar come out to play that night? Does she know what her husband and Angela forced him to do to Sylar?

"I prefer the Nathan with the milk chocolate eyes," she told him.

"_I do too,"_ he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her everything and pray for her forgiveness, for her to tell him the right thing to do. Matt was lost in Angela and Noah's morally gray world and no longer could he remember a world of black and white thinking. He was lost and needed someone to show him the way back.

"He's less like a politician and more like a hunter," Sandra explained, "and the intensity that he is focused on finding her is much greater. I wish he could stay like that, but I know why he can't."

"You do?" Matt said shocked. All the thoughts running through his mind center around the thought that an outsider who observed him for two weeks noticed more than Peter did in two years.

"Energy," Sandra states not noticing the relief and anguish washing over Matt's face, "one cannot be going that fast for so long before he crashes."

"Ah," he told her, "and the warehouse?"

"It felt like someone else was there," Sandra said, "Nathan wouldn't touch anything as if it would bring back memories he didn't….no _couldn't_ endear it again." Sandra glanced as Matt and could tell he was trying hard not to invade her mind. "It's okay if you want to," Sandra encouraged, "Nothing happened that night. Charles drove me there alone and I came back alone."

"Sorry," Matt apologized.

"Why is Noah afraid of me being alone with Nathan?"

"Jealousy, I don't know."

"I'll let that one go for now," she told him as the car came to a stop. Matt went to open the door but she put her hand on his arm to stop him. "One second please."

"What is it Sandra?" Matt said, "You don't have to be a mind reader to know something is troubling you."

"Am I a bad mother?"

"What? No!" he replied immediately, "Claire's abduction does not automatically qualify someone to be a member of the bad mother's club."

"Noah hid it from me for a month," Sandra vented her frustrations, "I…I…"

"Sandra it's not okay what he did to you," Matt said, "He should have been honest with you since the beginning. Remember before even seeing that DVD you had already purchased your ticket."

"Okay," Sandra told him, "I wish I didn't feel so useless."

"To be honest," Matt said, "Most days I feel useless too, but I keep working on locating Claire, trying to get one step closer to Danko who seems to be at least three steps further than me, if not more."

"That night after Nathan left," Sandra abruptly changed the subject. She knew she wanted this, the truth, but right now it was too much to bare, "I did something I haven't done since I was child."

"What?"

"After Nathan flew off I saw a shooting star," she recapped the story, "and I made a wish."

"You wished that we find Claire."

"No," she said as she noted Matt's stunned expression, "told you I was a bad mother."

"I…no Sandra…"

"Hold that thought," Sandra instructed him, "That night, I wished Sylar was still alive."

"What? How? Why?" Was the first three questions he asked before he could even process he was speaking.

"I know it's a horrible wish to make, but I was…no I am desperate."

"I don't understand."

"I was staring into the vastness of space watching Nathan disappeared when it happened. I saw it," Sandra recalled, "And all I could think about was my daughter…and Sylar." She looked at Matt as she wiped the tears that escaped from her eyes. "It didn't matter how hard Noah tried to hide Claire from Sylar," she continued her explanation, "He always found her. There wasn't a corner of this earth that Sylar wasn't able to track her to. Two years ago when he was masquerading around as Nathan," she was too entranced in her story to notice when Matt flinched, "He sought her out and kept her close to him." She paused for Matt to process everything she was saying, "I'm not saying his fascination with my daughter warms my heart. But all I could think about when that star flew by is Sylar can always find Claire and for the most part Noah can find Sylar…which means, we could get Claire back quicker."

"For the most part?" Matt said, "Noah would think it would be exchanging a psychopath for a sociopath."

"He saved her," Sandra disclosed to the former police officer, "I don't condone his...whatever he has towards Claire. But he saved her from the vortex that would have taken away from all of us permanently."

"What are you saying Sandra?"

"I'm saying that God help me, I wish Sylar was alive," Sandra confessed, "Because his hidden talent is locating my daughter without Molly's ability. He can track her under any circumstances. _Six weeks_ Matt, do you honestly believe it would take Sylar over six weeks to find her. Wasn't his ability figuring out how things work and couldn't he figure out Danko's mind? Wasn't Danko trying to control Sylar?"

"That was a joke," Matt commented, "but Danko soon found out dealing with Sylar means he humors you as long as it suits his purpose. _No one_ controls Sylar; he's secretly controls the situation as he's waiting to make his next move."

"Trust me when I say this next statement disgusts me," Sandra stated firmly, "But Claire is his purpose. They both will live forever. They're the only constant in each other's lives since Sylar learned to mimic her ability. Danko has her and is intent on destroying her. Out of all of us, Sylar would have the most to lose. He would lose his cornerstone." She shook her head of what she thought were nonsense thoughts. "I feel like that father Michael Keaton played when his son was dying and the serial killer could save him by donating some body part….I think it was his kidney."

"The movie was _Desperate Measures_ and it was bone marrow not a kidney," Matt corrected her as he tried to follow what she was saying. It felt like an episode the Twilight Zone, Sylar and Claire…correction, Nathan and Claire used to watch every night before bed.

"That's it," she said, "He was hoping something evil could be the thing that saves his son. That something good could come from that evil man."

"I'm not sure that's what the movie…"

"But then again, I'm probably just romanticizing this, that I would over look the terrorizing and seek comfort in the fact he could always find her, no matter where she was."

"So let me see if I understand this," Matt said after a few minutes, "You wish there was some way to bring Sylar back to life because you believe he would save Claire? And you romanticized the villain into a hero?"

"That about sums it up," Sandra agreed, "Do you still think I'm not a bad mother?"'

"I think you are a good mother," Matt replied honestly, "By asking this, you are using all of your options."

"But unfortunately it's not an option." Sandra said as she leaned over and gave Matt a hug, "Please continue to keep me informed on everything. No matter how hard it might be, I need to know what is happening with my daughter."

"I will," Matt promised, "And I am going to do everything in my power to grant your wish."

"You already have," Sandra told him, "and I'm grateful." She exited the car after insisting that she can get in by herself. She did not want to take Matt away from the Claire search anymore.

"Wish granted," Matt said as he thought about how he was going to do this and survive to tell the story. He also wanted to check his own heart to make sure he was not doing this out of spite. But how could he deny Sandra's wish, especially when he is aware of the times Sylar was coming to the surface. Matt Parkman was sure of two things; the first was that Sylar must be stronger than him because of the amount of times Sylar was caught breaking free from his mind control. And second, Sylar was the best option available to track Claire down. He was not choosing sides, he was choosing Claire. Matt knew he needed to get Claire away and hopefully not at the cost of his own life. The door was opened, before Matt knew they had stopped. He thanked Charles and ran to the elevator. As he waited he recalled the last argument with Noah on the subject.

"_I thought I told you the last time we would not have this discussion again," Noah hissed at him._

"_You have nothing to lose!"_

"_How about Claire?" Noah yelled, "Sylar could destroy her!"_

"_You're confusing Sylar with Danko," Matt said, "Because Danko is hell bent on making pieces of Claire!" _

"_This is not up for discussion."_

"_Sylar is coming out more and more," Matt explained, "He's stronger and more suited to track down Danko."_

"_Sylar is a sociopath," Noah said, "I will not be responsible for unleashing that killer back into society."_

"_Danko is at least three steps ahead of us," Matt said, "We need someone that can crawl inside of his head and know what Danko is thinking. __**Sylar**__ is that person. He's already trying to help us…"_

"_Himself!" Noah yelled as Matt said 'us.' Noah took a deep breath before continuing, "Sylar only cares about himself and his motives. I will not put my family at risk."_

"_That's a joke and you know it!" Matt argued, "He has Claire's ability. He doesn't need her for that anymore. But he will kill my family in a heartbeat for what __**you**__ made me do to __**him**__. I'm the one taking all the risk for the safety of your daughter!"_

"_Sylar stays trapped in Nathan's mind," Noah ordered, "We will not have this discussion ever again."_

Matt shook his head as the doors opened to the Petrelli apartment. He heard Noah and Angela talking in the living room. Matt walks past them and goes into Nathan's office. Matt shouldn't be surprised to see him hovering over the documents they have collected. When Nathan's head snaps up he recognizes the darker shade of brown. Sylar was reaching his way to the surface again. This only assured him he was doing the right thing. Sylar stayed dormant right up until Claire was taken from him. Sylar wants out to get to Claire. Matt wishes it will not be at the cost of his life. "I need you to listen to me," Matt addressed the monster within, "I will let you out because it's Sandra's wish."

"What are you talking about Parkman?" Nathan questions as he feels Matt talking to someone else.

"I only ask you spare my family," Matt asks, "and find Claire."

"What the hell…"

Matt put his hand on Nathan's forehead as he pushes him down on the chair, "You are Sylar. You're a hunter and a killer. You collect abilities. You are Sylar, not Nathan Petrelli." Matt continued to bring the monster within to the surface as he silently prays to God that his family would be okay.

Sylar snapped his chocolate brown eyes open and with the lift of his hand flew Matt across the wall, pinning him to the wall. "Look who decided to let me come out to play," Sylar sneers, "Was I a good boy?"

"Please…"

"Please what?" Sylar said, "Not kill your son for entrapping me?"

"Sylar, I was following orders…"

"You were imprisoning me in a dimwit's mind!" Sylar accused the man, "_Someone_ has to pay for it."

"Make it Danko," Matt stated as he gasped for breath.

"Oh Danko is on the top of my list," Sylar reassured him, "When Danko is checked off my list, I will move onto Angela, Noah, and little Mattie!" He pulled Matt towards him through his telekinesis. "But first, I want your ability." Sylar used his empathy to figure out the other man's ability. He wasn't stupid; Parkman had to live today so he could keep Bennett off his trail. When he discovered how Matt's ability works he let the man go and watched Matt fall to the ground.

"How did you except Angela to react when you killed her precious son?" Matt inquired, "You thought she'd be so grateful? Let you live your life…"

"Nathan deserved his fate," Sylar said cutting him off, "You of all people should understand that."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"I know you're the _family man_ now," Sylar mocked him, "But I'm sure you haven't forgotten Daphne already and the future you saw with her. She did have an interesting ability didn't she?"

"Shut up!" Matt hissed, "You are not allowed to talk about her!" Anger clouds his judgment as it momentarily slipped his mind about how dangerous the other man was. Reality reminded him as Sylar flicked his wrist and sent Matt flying across the room. What caught him off guard was when he landed softly on the ground. He looked at the serial killer with the obvious question written on his face.

"I can't let _Ma dearest,_" he mimicked Nathan's voice, before returning to his normal voice, "know that her precious little boy is dead yet," Sylar informed him. He paused for a second, "Would you like the chance to save your son's life?"

"_Yes!"_ his mind screamed.

"Keep them off my back," Sylar replied before his voice dropped with a southern accident, "and follow my orders like a good little puppy dog you tried to make me be. Think you can handle that Padre?"

Matt lowered his head as a million reasons ran through his head how this was not going to end well. But he could only think of two reasons to go with it: The first being the chance of his son's safety and the second was Claire. "What do I tell them?"

"I don't care," Sylar ordered, "buy me some time."

"Who's Cassie?" Matt asked. After Nathan slipped that name two weeks ago, he could not find anything that tied a Cassie to the Petrelli family. Sylar stopped mid stride and Matt caught Sylar unprepared as he got a glimpse of a young teenager with dark hair and eyes.

"Stay out of my mind," Sylar demanded as he blocked the other man out.

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter," Sylar said, "Claire's story won't end like hers did."

"Matt?" Molly asked from the doorway, "Who are you talking to?"

"And it's not even my birthday!" Sylar exclaimed as he turned back into Nathan.

"Molly?" Matt said, "What are you doing here?"

"Nathan called me and asked me to come over and help with Claire."

Matt looked back at _Nathan_ and glared at him. _"Keep her out of this!"_

"_Nathan called her,"_ Sylar responded in his mind, _"But since she's here."_

"_Don't you dare lay one finger on her you psychotic bastard!"_

"Come here and let me look at you," Nathan said as he waved her over.

Molly felt her body move as if someone else was controlling it. She felt like Nathan had put her under a microscope with his intense stare. He stayed like that for a few minutes before he looked away, "What was that?"

"Just seeing how you'd respond if death was staring you in the face," Nathan replied half heartily, "You did well kid. Now go work your magic."

"Okay," she responded going to the desk. When the map came up empty again she gazed up and sees that only Matt was left in the room.

Sylar in his Nathan disguise stole Peter's favorite leather jacket, a shirt, and boots. He went to the window and flew off. Stopping only to steal a pair of jeans that fit as he finally shed the last of Nathan by changing out of the suit. He closed his eyes and replayed everything Danko had ever given them as well as his drawing he drew. He fixated on the last DVD Sandra brought to them as he remembered the promises he made to Sandra to bring Claire home to her. His mind worked in overtime trying to put that last piece of the puzzle he was working on before Matt shoved him back into Nathan's brain. It was a warehouse but where? His memory recalled a seeing half of a company's name on the wall. It was faded and had to have been closed for at least five years. Danko would not have put her in one that was close to whatever town this was. This building had to be on the outskirts. It bugged him because he remembered seeing it after he took the waitress ability in Texas. The memory hit him; he had stayed there the night before he went to see the cheerleader for the first time. When the last piece fell into place, he opened his eyes, "Odessa, Texas." Without hesitation he flew off to Texas.

Danko heard him hit something and knelt down to brush off the remaining dirt. He opened the coffin door and noticed Claire's blue skin starting to turn a health shade of peach as the oxygen flooded her system. He waited patiently has he observed her blue skin turn into a healthy shade of peach before he japed a spike in the back of her head. "It's not time for you to wake up yet," he told her, "I have to get you to the next place first." He carried Claire out of the grave and set her in a body bag. He threw the bag in the truck of his stolen car. He went back to the grave stone and closed the coffin lid. He placed flowers by the tombstone. "A little treat for you Bennett," Danko told himself as he placed the card in the black roses.


	5. His Hidden Talent

**Chapter 5 His Hidden Talent**

_Odessa, Texas_

Sylar landed safely behind an abandoned warehouse 500 yards from his target. His eyes did a sweep of the surrounding to make sure no one had seen him. Like a predator seeking his prey, his focus could not be hinder as his eyes continuously scanned the area for any threats. He knew even if Parkman betrayed him there was a snowballs chance in hell they could have gotten here before him even with the teenager's assistance because her scrawny ass had not be able to pinpoint him until now. Time was of the essence...but, there was one thing Sylar could never be accused of and that was going in half cocked—that was Nathan Petrelli—though, Sylar wanted nothing more but to get revenge against the people who stole the past three years of his life from him, his _top _priority was to find Danko. Then slowly torture him to the point where Danko would wish his parent's never met. Sylar needed to show him the consequences of taking what does not belong to you…especially when she is _his_ cheerleader.

Sylar used his enhanced hearing he rightfully took from the mechanic to listen for any movement or voices at his target destination. He heard sounds of rodents and nothing else of consequence. Sylar focused his mind for any thoughts he might hear and came up empty. It took him approximately five seconds to fly the remaining yards to the warehouse.

He inhaled deeply before using his telekinesis to open the door. Sylar's hands changed from radioactive red to blue lightening bolts. His mind couldn't decide on how he was going to fry Danko's ass. Sylar moved quickly and silently through the warehouse, searching for Claire when he came across a strong odor that made him want to throw up.

Something had died here.

Sylar turned his head and saw a doorway. He went through it and the smell washed over his body. A quick scan of the room told him there was no threat as he lifted his shirt over his nose in hopes of blocking out some of the smell. This was the room Claire was in and he needed to give it the same care he did when he was trapped behind Nathan's face. His eyes landed on the table covered in her dried blood. The video flashed in his mind as his hand glowed briefly with his flare of anger. Sylar laid his hands on the table as flashes of the torment Claire had endured raced through his mind until it was too much and the serial killer had to remove his hands. Danko used that poor and innocent woman like his own personal Operation game. Sylar never wanted a man's life in a way he wanted Danko's now. He killed before to collect abilities, to learn how things work or to defend himself against the government or the company…but now, he was going to kill for the sole purpose of wiping that sick bastard off the face of this planet. And God help anyone who stood in his way.

Danko's voice filled the silence of the room _"__Because I'm sure he's dying to know the answer as well."_ Danko was taunting them in the video two weeks ago and he was so far ahead in this _game_ he was playing that he had time to change the rules. Why? Sylar had not figured that out yet. He knew there had to be a clue there that Bennet would understand. His eyes drifted to Claire's small intestines and turned his head to the side as he tried to figure out the clue. He jumped over her intestines to get a better look at it. There were letters but the rodents had eaten most of it.

_c e wilcox t r 0 2 06_

"What the hell are you suppose to be?"

* * *

_Manhattan, NY_

"Where the hell is Nathan?" Noah hissed at Matt, "He should have been here by now!"

"I told you," Matt answered honestly the first time in an hour, "He's following a lead."

"You were supposed to be with him at all times in case _you know what_ decides it wants to come out and play!"

Matt desperately wanted to punch the older man in the face for treating him like an invalid. But he could not since Noah does not call the shots anymore. Matt switched to Team Sylar and will do everything in his power to protect the serial killer because it meant saving his family. "I gave him the mind thing before he left," Matt assured him, "He will be fine. Now if you excuse me I need to call Janice back." Matt walked away from Noah without waiting for a response.

"He's hiding something," Noah stated.

"I know," Angela said from the chair as she observed the two men's interaction, "I saw in my dreams Sylar standing over Nathan's disappearing body."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Noah inquired.

"It means that we need to keep a closer eye on my _eldest son_."

Matt closed the door to the patio and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Janice," Matt said, "You need to do something for me no questions asked."

"What's going on?"

"Promise me you'll do this."

"Matt," she whispered, "You're scaring me a little. Please talk to me."

"I did something," he confessed, "I corrected a mistake and you and Mattie are in danger because of it. I need you to pack yours and Mattie's things."

"Matt…"

"I need you safe," he told her softly with regret laced in his voice, "Home is not safe anymore."

"I'll go to…"

"Don't tell me," Matt said, "this person has my ability now. I can't know in case he takes it from my mind."

"But…"

"Please Janice," he begged the love of his life, "We need to protect Mattie and I need to protect the both of you."

"How will I get a hold of you? To know it's safe to come home?"

Matt took a deep breath. The noble thing to do would be to tell her she could not. It would guarantee their safety. "Buy a pay as you go phone. It's untraceable. Call me every other week."

"I love you."

"I love you too," Matt said, "give Mattie a kiss every night from his father."

"I will."

Matt put his mobile phone back into his pocket and stared down at the ground. He wondered if he did the right thing. Would Janice forgive him for unleashing Sylar into the world if it meant saving Claire Bennet's life? She would forgive that….right?

* * *

_Odessa, Texas_

Sylar walked into the Odessa Public Library looking for an open computer to use and when he couldn't find one he went to the computer closest to him. He touched the young brown hair man's shoulders. _"You are done with the computers and will offer it to me."_

"I'm finished," the young man exclaimed, "It's all yours."

"Thank you, Matt Parkman," Sylar said with a smile. After Claire has been rescued, Sylar is definitely going to be trying out this new ability.

"Zach,"

"What?" Sylar asked.

"My name is Zach," he replied, "Not Matt Parkman."

"Well, thank you, Zach," Sylar said as he sat down and went to Google. He typed in 'wilcox 06 Odessa.' He clicked on the first link and saw a picture of a blond cheerleader.

"It's a shame what happened to her," Zach commented as he caught the image on the screen as he was packing up his belongs.

"Excuse me?"

"May I?" Zach asked as he gestured to the computer. When the older man gave the approval Zach went back to Google and typed in 'Jackie Wilcox Homecoming.' He clicked on the link to her death. "She was killed at Homecoming back in 2006. The killer sliced her head open. Police never found her murderer."

"Really?" Sylar commented remembering the cheerleader he murdered thinking she was Claire. He smirked a little at the irony of the moment. Years later he was back in Odessa to save the same cheerleader he set out to destroy.

"Yeah," Zach said, "What a waste of a life. Granted I went to school with her and she was a complete bitch but she didn't deserve what happened to her back then or now."

"What do you mean now?" Sylar inquired as he focused his thought back at the young man, "I thought you said she died three years ago."

"She did. Someone dug up her grave sometime last night and left her corpse on the ground," Zach recalled, "What kind of sick bastard does that? Let the dead rest in peace."

"That's horrible," Sylar said, "did they catch the grave robber?" Sylar's mind was reeling with the fact that Danko had most likely buried Claire alive with her old high school friend. The thought of her trapped in the coffin as she gasped for air filled with death, made him sick to his stomach.

"No," Zach answered, "no leads what so ever." Zach leaned in closer and whispered, "Just between you and me, I don't think the cops are very bright here." Zach moved away and shoved the last book into his bag, "Why did you want to know about Jackie?" He turned and saw the older man staring at him.

"_You don't remember meeting me or what we just talked about."_

"Hey, are you done with that?" Zach inquired as he pointed to the computer, "I have a project I'm working on for my psychology class. It's due on Monday. I thought this was supposed to be an easy three credits but this professor is a pain in the ass."

"The mind is a wonderfully complex," Sylar chastised the man, "It's not to be taken lightly."

"Whatever man," Zach responded, "Are you done?"

"All yours," Sylar said as he walked out of the library towards the alley. He looked around before he flew off. When he reached the cemetery he focused on graves that were fleshly dug. Three grave sites later...Sylar was staring at one of his victim's tombstones.

_Jackie Wilcox _

_Beloved Daughter _

_Born: June 2, 1990 Died: October 10, 2006_

Sylar searched for something that didn't belong. Something Danko left behind for Bennet but nothing looked out of place. According to Zach, her grave was dug up yesterday which means Danko had buried her alive for Noah to find. He came back to get her last night sometime after Bennet failed to figure out his clue. Sylar could not hear anything coming from below or any thoughts screaming at him. Claire was gone and he cursed Noah Bennet for it. It took him six hours to get this far. It should have been him digging her up; not Danko. Sylar was starting to think Danko was done damaging Claire and had shifted the focus in toying with Claire's heroes. Seeing how long it would take for them to find her.

The thoughts racing through Sylar's mind came to a halt when he found what was out of place. He looked at the bouquet of black roses sitting in a ceramic vase. After careful examination he noticed an electronic device at the bottom. He did not pick up the flowers to investigate the device more closely, because that would be a rookie mistake if that was a sensor. Sylar carefully lifted the envelope from the roses without disrupting it. Jackie's name was written on the envelope. When he opened the second envelope, it was addressed to '_You're too late_.' Those three words have been mocking him for the past six weeks. He pulled the card out and turned it over. Sylar did a double take as he was not sure he believed what he was seeing. It was a wedding invitation. More specifically _his and Claire's_ wedding invitation. It did not make sense since Danko believes he is dead…

"He's trying to kill her," Sylar whispered out loud as he finally put puzzle piece in place. Not that it made any sense. Claire couldn't be killed, but it seemed that Danko was going to die trying. "That's why he changed the rules of the game. What's the point in damaging my _toy_" he spat out the word with repulsion, "if I'm not around to try and fix it?" He read through the invitation again.

_Mr. and Mrs. Noah Bennet  
request the honor of your presence  
at the marriage of their daughter  
Claire  
to  
Sylar  
son of  
Mr. and Mrs. Dale Smither  
on Saturday, the twenty-eighth of November  
two thousand and nine  
at two o'clock  
Coyote Sands_

_Two hearts joined together in the afterlife_

Sylar noticed immediately his father's name was incorrect. His adoptive father was Martin and the bastard who gave him life was named Samson. Dale Smither was the female mechanic in Bozeman, MT where he collected his enhanced hearing. He could not remember the name of her garage. He cannot even remember if he bothered looking at the name. He looked at his watch and noticed that a half hour had past…giving Danko at least six and a half hour head start. Sylar took off for Montana as he plotted what type of hell he wanted Danko to walk in on. Danko might have a few hours on him, but he was confident that he could fly faster than Danko could drive.

_Two hours later_

Sylar landed at Dale's old garage. He scanned the area and when it came up empty he gave a crooked smile. He flew into the garage and his mind worked on how he was going to surprise Danko when it saw a DVD. He picked it up and read "play me idiot." Sylar looked around and did not see anything he could use.

He went into the small town and broke into the first empty home he could find. Sylar pushed play and noticed Claire sitting down. He could tell she was in a little bit of a drug haze and Sylar did not know what drug could do that to her. "What the hell are you wearing?" he stated when he finally noticed she was dressed like a Catholic School girl. Out of nowhere a white board came up _Good Girl, Bad Girl_ and music one would associate with a pornographic film played in the background. "What the…" Three men came into the room as Sylar noted Claire's body was recovering from the drugs as she screamed. He noted that her body movements were sluggish at best as she tried to fend off her attackers. Sylar stopped analyzing the DVD when he heard her scream again. His eyes widen as Claire was being groped and pawed by these three men who obviously had a death wish. Sylar heard the front door open and he quickly retrieved his DVD and slipped out the back door.

When he was safety back at the garage he looked down and realized he melted the disc in his rage. He destroyed the next clue in this twisted tail. Images of Claire struggling against three attackers, who were obviously there to gang rape her, fueled the anger even more. In a fit of rage he throw the melted DVD across the field as lightening bolted from his finger tips. Sylar inhaled a deep breath and his eyes snapped open. "This isn't right." He pulled the wedding invitation from his back pocket and looked over again. This was not where he was supposed to be. Danko used misdirection to buy himself more time and he took the bait foolishly. Apparently there was still some of the stupid Senator left in him. Danko wanted more time and Sylar gave it to him. He glanced at his watch, again and realized this trip just wasted three hours; giving Danko nine and half hours a head of him. "Son of bitch!" he yelled when he spotted his true destination, "Coyote fucking Sands is where _I_ was cremated!" Sylar took off to Arizona and the murder in his heart grew with each passing second.

* * *

_Arizona_

Danko had just pasted the Texas/Arizona border with the drugged cheerleader in the truck of his car. He had two more hours until his destination. Danko looked at his phone and noted the alert signal was still inactive…no one had moved the flowers yet. Danko smiled as he realized he was still eight steps ahead as always.


	6. You Found Me

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay. You have no idea how many times I rewrote this chapter. I'm not sure I know off hand. I even tweaked it a few times after it was beta. I felt like I made you wait too long already, I didn't have the heart to send it for another proofing. So please forgive any errors. I tried to catch as many as I could. I just wanted this chapter to be perfect but I'm not sure if I pulled it off. So I beg your forgiveness.

Also, this story is AU following the Heroes time line before the beginning of this season. I did an a mystery character that isn't in the Heroes' time line. Something that happened to Sylar preseason 1...so please be kind. Chapter title is taken from the Fray.

Well that's enough from me. I hope you enjoy. Thanks Estelle Stafford for editing this chapter and for your patience!

* * *

**Chapter 6 You Found Me**

_Coyote Sands_

Claire slowly woke from her drugged induced sleep. The first thing she noticed was that she was being carried over someone's shoulder. The second was her hands were tied behind her back and her ankles bond. Claire wasn't sure if she should be grateful that she was still wearing that slutty cheerleading outfit Danko had her dressed in for her latest assault by three different men. The skirt was too short, the top too small and showed too much cleavage. Claire was certain that only porn stars or whores dressed up for Halloween would wear this outfit. If she somehow survives this nightmare, she would burn every picture of her as a cheerleader and beseech the Haitian to erase her memory of those times as well. Silent tears flooded from her eyes at the memory of what that man just subjected her to. She felt his hands let go of her as she was dropped to the ground. The wind was knocked out of her when she made contact with the ground. She turned her head in an attempt to shield her tears from him. Claire didn't want to give him the satisfaction to see how much he broke her.

"_Dear God, please don't let that rape tape go to my mother."_ She pleaded silently to the Lord Almighty…whom she was certain had left her behind to be devoured the wolves. Like the freak of nature that needed to be wiped from the earth's existence. Claire felt a prick in her arm. She didn't need to look to know what it was; he's been injecting her with that formula to suppress her ability for weeks now. He used it before he _invited_ those men to over to _make a movie_. She turned to him when she felt another needle.

"I'm using the last of this stuff for my last experiment," he told her. He lightly tapped her cheek in a patronizing manner, "Because I'm curious to see when I burn you alive with this shit in your system…will your body heal from it? Or will you finally die like us mere morals." He gave her another injection before tossing the syringe in his bag.

"_Oh dear God,"_ she begged, _"Let me die forever this time."_ Another tear fell from her eye as she remembered that God didn't care for her brand of sinner. Claire looked at her captor when beeping sound came from his pocket.

Danko pulled his phone out of his pocket and silence the alarm. He smiled wide as he waved it to Claire, "It's about fucking time," he said to her, "I'm beginning to think your father was a complete moron. He given me new found hope that he'll make it here in time to walk all over your charred ashes."

Claire watched as he walked away to build the altar he was going to sacrifice her on in his quest for what, she didn't know anymore.

* * *

_Odessa, Texas_

Matt sat on the ground next to Jackie Wilcox's grave rubbing his temples as he listened to Noah squabble with Angela about picking up the vase without checking first. Noah was irate that she had tipped Danko off, letting that sadistic man know for certain how far behind they were. Matt had received a condescending email from Sylar directing him to come to Odessa, Texas. The place where Danko made the video for Sandra that started him on this new journey as Sylar's lackey. As much has he despised teaming up with Sylar to save little Mattie's life. Sylar was good at what he does. Matt knew he shouldn't be as shell shocked as he was… never for one second did he doubt Sylar's ability to find people…to find Claire. But it was hard to digest the fact that Sylar was able to do in _hours_ what is _still _taking them _weeks_ to do.

Matt glanced briefly at Claire's adoptive father. Noah was so far behind this game that Danko was playing Matt wondered if he would ever catch up. The man with horn rimed glasses made a career out of finding people. No one can hide from him, except the one man who held his daughter hostage. Matt's heart went out to the other man, after discovering his son, he knows the depths of what a father would do for his child. It's the reason why he unleashed Sylar into the world and so far the score card is Sylar-2, Noah-0.

Matt was starting to believe that God had to have a warped sense of humor. Out of all the saints and sinners in this world, it is Sylar who appears to be their _only_ hope for Claire's prompt rescue. Matt just hoped that Sylar would be the lesser of two evils and that a small piece of Nathan would still be in Sylar that would motivate him to return Claire to her family. He had to believe there was still some good in Sylar. He had checked his email hoping to hear word from Janice when he saw it. The small glimmer of hope that Sylar was on _their_ side. He clicked on Sylar's message and scowled at the words. He could hear Sylar's voice mocking him as he read it.

_Toto-_

_Be a good little dog and take number 3 and 4 to Odessa, TX to visit the old River's Slaughterhouse on US Highway 385 then Jackie Wilcox. She's the one who told me where that wicked bitch of the west took Dorothy._

_Now go be a good boy and I'll give you a treat the next time I see you. Sound good my big old puppy dog?_

_Sylar_

He cringed knowing because of his transgressions against Sylar, his little Mattie was number 2 on the list behind Danko. The twisted part was Matt was grateful Sylar gave him this lead to get Noah off his back. It was becoming painfully obvious Noah had suspected Matt was hiding something with all the vague answers he was giving Noah on Nathan's whereabouts. Hopefully this will get Noah to back off, giving Sylar more time to work his magic.

"What did you find?" Noah's voice lured Matt from his thoughts.

"Nothing," Matt said, "I couldn't find a single clue to where Danko might be going to next. It's a dead end."

"This can't be a dead end," Angela insisted, "I saw it in my dreams. Jackie gave us the clue to find Claire."

"Well I checked twenty times," Matt stated in a sarcastic quip, "There is nothing here." _"Because Sylar took it already,"_ he finished in his head. He didn't know what game Sylar was playing, whose side he was on, or where he was at, all Matt Parkman knew was that he wished he was with Sylar right now; anything to get away from Noah and Angela bickering at each other while Peter failed miserably at playing peacemaker. For now, he held on to the belief that Sylar would give him another lead to follow. He just had to be patient and keep Noah off the serial killer's scent as long as possible to keep his son safe from Sylar's vengeance. The overwhelming knowledge that all his faith laid in a deranged man had Matt Parkman looking up to the heavens, "God help us if Sylar is the savior in this scenario," he whispered to the twilight.

* * *

_Coyote Sands_

Danko had finished gathering the deadwood. As a child, he was fascinated with the Salem Witch Trials and decided he wanted to reenact it, and burn **that** little bitch to the stake. He looked over at her and gave her a cold sadistic smile that sent a chill down her spine.

Claire closed her eyes hoping to forget her surroundings. She squeezed them tightly and wished that she would dream that Peter, her hero, would save her like he did all those years ago. Claire couldn't understand what was taking her father and Peter so long to find her. _"__Isn't that what my father does for a living? Finding people? Wasn't it Peter's job to save me? Why wasn't he here? Could Danko be right, did my family just not care about me"? _She didn't want to believe it but now she couldn't help but wonder…was she truly "a fucking nuisance" as Danko so _kindly_ put it. Claire prayed that she'd dream of another world where she would be rescued and not have to feel Danko's torment anymore. Her mind was starting to drift into another world when she heard a smacking sound, Danko swear, the same smacking sound as something broke, then a thud. She opened her eyes to see Danko on the ground and someone she'd never thought she see again.

Sylar saw Claire lying on the ground bound. A few feet away he saw Danko successfully place a pole in the ground. His body flared red briefly as Sylar _knew_ what he would be doing with that particular piece of wood. Sylar landed quietly next to Claire. Sylar noticed her eyes were closed with a pained expression on her face. The rationale side of his brain told him to just grab Claire and leave. The emotional side screamed at him to inflict pain on this pompous jackass who dare harm someone as extraordinary as Claire. His emotions won as he picked up piece of deadwood and stalked over to his prey as he used his telekinesis to free Claire from her bonds. Sylar gripped the wood tightly and swung at Danko's back.

Danko never saw it coming. He felt an incredible pain to his mid back as he flew forward, "Fuck!" he screamed as he felt his attacker made contact with his back again. The wood broke in two as he saw the pieces shattering forward. Danko felt his body move without his consent as he was flipped over and slammed into the ground by invisible hands, knocking the air out of his lungs. After he regained his breathing, he felt someone kick his stomach. His immediate reaction was to lean over in pain.

"Miss me?" a sneering voice asked.

Danko looked up to see Sylar smirking as he loomed over him holding his hand out as a piece of wood flew into his waiting hand. Danko's face lost all color as he stared at the very much _alive _and_ enraged_ serial killer. "You're dead."

"Do I look dead?" he asked rhetorically as he hit Danko's left shoulder with his makeshift weapon. Sylar could have used his powers, but there was this overwhelming desire to beat him with the wood he was going to burn Claire with. "More importantly," he continued as he ignored Danko's cries of agony, "Did you think you could get away with harming _my_ Claire the way you did?"

Danko thanked whatever higher power Sylar didn't have heat vision because he was sure he'd be on fire right now. "I should have known a cockroach like you wouldn't die," he snarled at the man, "I should have seen this coming!" He was silenced by Sylar kicking his side.

"You think you could just take Claire and I wouldn't retaliate?" Sylar responded, "You think I'd approved of this animalistic treatment her!" Sylar raised the wood and swung down hard on Danko's chest. He could hear a few ribs cracking upon impact. "Besides, I wouldn't want to miss my own wedding now would I?" Sylar remarked as he narrowed his eyes at the man who had held Claire hostage for far too long, "After all, they do say a man only gets married once….I guess it's time to open my present."

Danko's eyes widened as Sylar lifted his left hand and pointed at him. "What are going to do to me?"

"I thought I'd measure your intestines to see if they are as long as Claire's," Sylar responded as he traced his finger across his stomach, leaving an oozing gash in its wake as Danko let out an ear piercing scream.

Claire could feel her heart racing in her body as she tried to assess the situation. Sylar was alive _and_ he was here to _save_ her from Danko. It didn't make sense, she had to be dreaming. But if this was a dream, it would be Peter or her father that would be saving her…not Sylar...anyone but Sylar. _"If he's still alive, then whose body did we burn?"_ she thought to herself. Claire's attention was brought back to Sylar when she heard Danko scream. She watched as Sylar made an incision across his stomach…it brought to her the memory of when Danko did that to her. Turning to her side, she wished the screaming would stop and it immediately stopped…as if Sylar had read her mind.

Danko felt his mouth close against his will as Sylar muzzled his cries. His body flew upwards as Sylar wrapped his hands around Danko's throat, squeezing slowly as he kept Danko's body immobile.

"Let's see how much you enjoy being deprived of oxygen," Sylar hissed as he tried to rein in his emotions and focus on his control, "I loved to see the panic in your eyes as you desperately gasp for another breath." Danko was going to die, slowly and painfully by his hand. More importantly, he was going to be the one who made him suffer. That thought brought a feeling in his heart he could not name. Sylar knew he should have gotten Claire out of here first. Even after everything that he _knew_ had happened to her, he wanted to preserve whatever innocence she had left. But he couldn't harness his hunger for blood and vengeance. "You deserve to die a horrible death," Sylar promised, "And do you know why?"

"Fuck y..." his sentence was cut off when Sylar squeezed tighter.

Claire could see that Sylar was seething and couldn't help but wonder if she was next. That he tracked her down to torment her like he had done in the past. She wished she was free from her bounds so she could run away from both men. If Claire would have even tried to move and inch, she would have known that she was freed from her bonds. But these last few weeks with Danko, she had given up. She had given into helpless and believed that there was nothing she could do to save herself.

"Claire is special," Sylar told him, "She should be treated like a goddess among men. And you mere mortal and the lowest piece of shit on this god forsaken planet should be worshiping the ground she walks on."

Danko felt the choke hold on his neck getting tighter by each second. Sylar was not containing his emotions as well as he believed to be. Danko saw right through him and found the one thing he was searching for since he heard the name Sylar. His face broke out into a grin as he realized what would put a crack in the indestructible Sylar.

"What reason could you possibility have to be grinning right now!" he demanded, "I'm going to make your last moments on this Earth so painful and horrific that even Satan himself would think I was being too cruel and inhumane!"

"I finally found it," Danko choked out.

"What?"

"Your Achilles' heel," Danko gasped out, "What the almighty Sylar would risk everything for…or should I say who!" His reward for his observation was a tighter hold on his neck and getting kneed in the groin.

Sylar didn't want to think if there was any truth in that statement. But along as Danko believed it to be true, Claire would be in more danger. Sylar only priority was these two things: Save Claire and seek vengeance on those who imprison him in Nathan's tedious body. He narrowed his eyes at Danko and declared, "I am going to enjoy killing you." He used his invisible hands to raise Danko off the ground as he continued to choke the man.

His concentration was interrupted when he heard Claire's accelerated heart beat followed by an ear piercing scream. Sylar turned to see a coyote biting Claire's upper arm three of his comrades were a few feet away running to join in the feast. _"Where the fuck did those things come from?" _he thought to himself. Sylar let out a primitive growl as he dropped Danko and ran to Claire's aid. He used his telekinesis to push the approaching animals back 100 feet as saw the animals landing on their sides before running back towards their prey. Sylar focused his attention on the fourth coyote. He used his invisible hands to take control of the coyote's body. The coyote opened its mouth against its will as it took a few steps back. Sylar stood his ground as he straddled over Claire. Her body safely tucked between his legs as a way to tell the animals she belonged to him. When the animal was a safe distance from Claire, he threw it in the air and sent an electric bolt after it, killing the coyote on impact.

"SYLAR!" Claire screamed as the coyote's companions were a few feet away. Claire looked up at Sylar as he towered over her. She was star struck as he stood defensively over her, palms out, with blue bolts of electricity dancing from his finger tips. His eyes were narrowed in on the three coyotes as she swore she heard a growl escape from his lips. Sylar's focus could not be swayed as he stood defensively over her; preparing to kill any of them.

Sylar raised his hands and pushed the animals back again. They continued to move forward as he released his blue bolts a few feet in front them. They whimpered a little but held their ground. Sylar wondered if they were trying to avenge the death of their fallen comrade. If it wasn't Claire they were looking to devour, he might have respected them for it. He sent another warning shot to the coyotes, this time inches from them. The coyotes stepped back before retreating. They decided on self preservation then fighting for this meal. Sylar watched them leave and would not move from his stance until the threat was gone. He turned back towards Danko to see a blood trail leading to where his car used to be. Sylar silently cursed himself for not hearing Danko leave. He lost Danko but he had Claire. He would be able to track Danko down again. His eyes started to sweep the area again for any threats when Claire's cries drew his attention to her.

Claire watched as Sylar swept the area. She knew that look. That was the look of the confident serial killer making a stance as he scanned the area for any more potential threats. Her arm was killing her and she bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. The anguish was too much to bear; a whimper of distress escaped her lips. Claire noticed immediately how his cold calculating eyes melt into warm milk chocolate eyes when he met hers. She looked deep into his eyes and found something in them that she couldn't describe in words. All she knew was that he wasn't here to hurt her but to save her. He had to be a figment of her imagination. This Sylar couldn't be real and her mind constructed him…right? If this was a dream, if she created this Sylar, then why did she hurt so much? This had to be real, but could it be true? After six agonizing weeks, Claire Bennet was safe? Sylar had freed her from Danko and she was safe again. That thought alone brought tears of joy to her eyes. _"If this is a dream," _she thought, _"O dear God, please don't let me wake from it."_

Sylar step to the left as he leaned down and gently wiped the tears from her eyes. "You're safe now Claire," he whispered to her, "I won't let him lay even one finger on you ever again."

Claire nodded to let him know she believed his promise as more tears fell from her eyes. This time from the overwhelming knowledge that she was freed from Danko's reign of terror. In an ironic twist, it was Sylar who gave her this freedom. "_Safe. I'm finally safe."_ Deep in her mind, she wondered how long would she remain safe under Sylar's care…since it was_ Sylar_. Claire wasn't sure if it was the look in his eyes or the pain in her arm; but in this moment of time she trusted him to get her out of here.

He kneeled down next to her and carefully picked up her arm. Claire let out a moan of suffering when he touched her, "I'm sorry Claire," he said as he touched her with the utmost care. He looked at her for the first time and noticed she was pale from loosing blood. Her eyes were drooping down. He investigated her wound and by the amount of bleeding, the coyote damaged an artery as well as took a good chunk of muscle from her. He could see her bone that by the grace of some unforeseen power was still intact. "Why aren't you healing?" he asked her as he watched her wound continue to bleed and the muscles failed to knit themselves back together. His voice was laced with the concern he was feeling.

"Danko," she said between breaths, "He injected me with something. It slows down my healing. He gave me a triple dosage. I…I…" she took a deep breath.

"It's okay," he whispered as he brushed a stray hair from her face, "use all your energy on staying awake okay?" He watched her nod in compliance. He took off his jacket and covered her body. Sylar had to keep her awake; he needed to stop the bleeding, and to keep her body from going into shock. He could feel her cold skin beneath his fingertips. He grabbed his light grey button down shirt and pulled it apart Clark Kent style as the buttons flew off the shirt. Then he wrapped it around the wound tightly. Claire let out a small cry. "I'm sorry," he told her, "Can you move?"

Claire shook her head 'no,' she didn't have the strength to move a single muscle as weeks of fatigue finally caught up her. Tears flooded her eyes as she realized how completely helpless she become under Danko's hold. She felt Sylar put one arm around her back and the arm another under her knees. He drew her body close to his before picking her up. Then he stood up as he brought her even closer to his body, cradling her in his arms. Claire wrapped her good arm around his neck and rested her wounded arm on her stomach.

Sylar scanned the area again for any possible threats. He looked down when he felt her shaking and caught her smile. "What's so funny?" He inquired.

"I never thought I'd see the day when _you'd_ sweep me off my feet," she grinned brighter in her delirium.

"Me either doll face," he said with a smile and a wink. He held in the worry as her face was whiter. Sylar used his telekinesis to keep the jacket wrapped tightly around her as he took off. He felt Claire bury her face into his black t-shirt and he swore he heard her breathe in deeply as if she was inhaling his scent.

Sylar held Claire closely to his body as he lifted them off the ground. Claire's arm wrapped tighter around his neck as she buried herself deeper into his arms. A shiver went through her body and she wasn't sure if it was from the cold air racing past her skin or being this close to Sylar. He pulled her closer to his body, trying his best to shield her from the cold. Sylar knew they should be in a car with the heat blasting, but he needed to tend to her arm as quickly as possible. Not that there was a car for him to steal anyways. Sylar landed by a rundown motel at least one hundred miles away from where they started. Claire needed medical attention, but they also need to put some distance between Danko and themselves. Sylar listened for any noises as he walked by the doors. He used his telekinesis to open the door to room 13 and shut it behind him. He carefully set Claire down on the counter in the bathroom.

Claire watched as he took the jacket and placed it on her shoulders. Her eyes followed him to the shower as he turned on the water. Panic flooded her body, unsure of what he was doing. Sylar turned back around and with two strides was back in front of her running his hands up her arms, hoping the friction would warm her up. He was careful not to touch her injury. Claire searched deep in his eyes and discovered warmth and concern staring back at him. The panic left her body as quickly as it came. She cursed herself for doubting Sylar. She knew she had years of reasons to doubt him, but not when he looked at her like he was now. This Sylar she would trust with her life…for now.

"I have to go..."

The fear came back as the thought of Sylar abandoning her. She threw her arms around him and pulled him to her body. Claire refused to let go in spite of the pain. If she was truly dreaming, if he left reality would come back. She wanted to live in this delusion a little longer with a Sylar that looked at her like he never did before. Sylar's hand moved up to his neck and gently moved her injured arm back down her to waist. She felt his arms on her back, rubbing her softly as he allowed her keep him close to her.

"I have to go," he whispered into her ear as he felt her cling tighter to him, "but I will be back I promise."

Claire loosened her hold of him and gazed up at his face. _"Why? Why must you leave me?"_

Sylar didn't need Matt Parkman's ability to know what her wounded face was asking of him. "I need to pay for this room and I need to get medical supplies for that arm." He watched as she nodded but her face told him not to go. "We need to stop that bleeding and we need you warm," Sylar said, "While I'm gone, please take a warm shower."

Claire moved her head up and down as her foggy mind tried to assess the situation but came up empty. All she knew is that _he_ was keeping her safe and she needed to keep trusting him. Trusting Sylar to keep her safe and now he was leaving her behind after literally almost being devoured by coyotes. The thought of being left alone for even a second terrified her but Sylar had to go. She took solace in his promise to come back. She looked up when he felt his lips on her forehead.

"I'll be back soon I promise," he reassured her. He didn't know what compelled him to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. Sylar looked down at her wide eyes and felt he had crossed a line. The small smile on her face reassured him that he didn't harm her. He smiled back at her before existing the bathroom and room. Sylar was determined to be gone for only a few minutes. To be as inconspicuous as possible, to keep him and Claire under the radar since Danko was still out there. Injured or not, Danko was still a threat until he was dead. And he was going to kill him with his own bare hands. Sylar was chastising himself for not killing him quickly before running to Claire's rescue. Instead he left _**that **_psychopath alive and Claire was in even more danger now that Danko diluted himself in believing he knew depths of Sylar's feelings for Claire. His first stop was to pay for the room, and then he would liberate some supplies for the local clinic.

* * *

Claire wasn't sure how long Sylar was gone, but the more time passed, the more her heart was racing. She heard the door open and she waited for Sylar to come to her. Her heart caught in her throat when she saw Danko standing at the doorframe. Claire wanted to open her mouth and scream but she couldn't. This man had rendered her helpless and she couldn't move a muscle. The tears flooded from her eyes, Sylar wasn't real and it was too good to be true. She wasn't free. She woke up from her dream to find she was still _his _prisoner.

"You bitch!" he growled at her. He took two strides and slapped her across the face. "You can't escape me!" Danko grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off onto the floor. He dragged her body across the room and through the door.

Claire could see the night sky as he dragged her through the rocks. He threw her through the open door and she landed hard on the concrete. She felt a sharp pain in her side as he kicked her.

"You're going to pay for disobeying me!"

Claire watched as he raised his hand, she covered her face with her arms and let out a whimper, "Please…" Claire didn't feel his hand; instead she felt two arms around her pulling into his body. She tried to struggle, but couldn't overpower him.

"Shh," a different and soothing voice murmured.

Claire continued to struggle against him when she felt his hands rubbing her back in a soothing manner.

"It's okay, you're safe," a familiar voice reassured her, "I got you. He can't hurt you."

Claire stopped struggling after she inhaled deeply, "Sylar," she whispered as she recognized the scent of the man that carried her for miles. The scent was quickly becoming her safe haven from the nightmare that continues to follow her.

"I've got you Claire," Sylar said, "He's never going to hurt you again. I promise you that."

After a few minutes Claire pulled away and was surprised at her surroundings. She was no longer trapped in the memory of her first attempt to escape him but in the bathroom of the rundown motel room. She was in the exact position she was in when Sylar left. The water was still running and she was still in her cheerleading outfit. "No!" she screamed as she pulled completely away from Sylar. She shed off the jacket before her hands went to her top as she tried to rip it off her body.

Sylar's hands reached up and grabbed hers, "Claire, stop before you hurt yourself!"

"I can't wear this anymore," she pleaded with him, "Please it hurts…the memory."

Sylar dropped her hands and grabbed the hem of her top. Claire saw him visibly flinch when his fingers made contact with the material as if he reminded him of a terrible memory. "Okay," he told her as he looked her in the eyes as he walked her through verbally what he was about to do. He continued to maintain eye contact with Claire to reassure her that this wasn't sexual act of any kind or he that was a pervert of any kind. Claire helped him remove her non-injured arm from the top. Sylar pulled it over her head and carefully slid the material down her injured arm, being extra careful not to move the impromptu binding on her wound. He dropped the shirt on the floor and reached over to his right to grab a towel from the hanger. Sylar put it behind Claire's back and pulled it to the front. He gestured her to secure it in front of her body. The next thing he did was pick her up and set her on the ground. "Can you take your skirt off?"

Claire reached behind her but cried out and pulled her injured arm securely to her body.

"Okay, listen carefully Claire;" Sylar instructed her, "I am going to use my telekinesis to…" He watched as her eyes widened and she vigorously shook her head left and right.

Claire didn't know why she was objecting it. She knew why Sylar wanted to use his telekinesis, so that he wouldn't accidentally touch her but invisible hands put this on her when she was unconscious and the thought of invisible hands taking it off what too much for her to handle.

"Okay," he told her, "I'm going to have to take it off myself then." He saw her nod slightly. "I'm going to reach under the towel with my hands and unzip your skirt. I apologize if I touch your bottom, I'll try not to. After I get the zipper, I'm going to bring my hands to the bottom of the skirt and pull it off your body. Is that okay?" Claire nodded her approval. Sylar continued to make eye contact with her. Sylar tried not to touch her ass but found it impossible as he touched it briefly. "Sorry," he told her as he slowly unzipped it slowly as he did not want to have any quick movements around her. His hands moved to the bottom of her skirt and pulled it down.

Claire smiled when she was freed of the outfit but was now fully aware the only thing covering her nudity was the towel wrapped securely around her. She had her suspicions that Sylar was using his telekinesis to make sure it stayed on her body as well.

"I'm going to lift you up and place you back on the counter now," he said in a soft voice. It was always a soft voice he was using with her, now. He went to the shower and turned off the water manually. That was another thing she noticed, he tried not to use his powers if he could help it. "I'm going to get the supplies from the other room," he told her.

"Don't leave," she whispered as her burst of energy started to leave her body. She was finding it hard to keep her eyes open.

"Open your eyes," he commanded her. Claire's eyes snapped open. "I'm going to the other room to get the medical supplies," he told her, "then I will be back."

"Quickly?"

"I'll be back by the time you can count to ten," he said, "Start counting."

"One…Two…Three…" she said as he left. Claire couldn't help but observe he was being extra gentle and careful with her. He was telling her everything he was going to do before doing it. "Four…five…"

Sylar grabbed the plastic outpatient bag and took a deep breath as images of what those skimpy clothes went through washed over him. He wasn't sure if he had the strength to go through this again. It nearly killed him to go through it the first time when he didn't know the intimate details of her kidnapping. And here he was willing putting himself through it again. "I must be crazy," he whispered to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by a different woman in need.

"Six…Seven…"

Sylar walked back in the bathroom and for a spilt second, he saw another face, a teenage girl with dark hair and dark brown eyes. Sylar shook his head and opened his eyes to see Claire. He could see the relief on her face when she saw him. "With three seconds to spare," Sylar pointed out as he untied his bloody shirt and poured some hydrogen peroxide on her wound. He saw the white puss telling him it was working. Claire hissed when it made contact. Using a nonstick pad he wiped up the access liquid from her arm. He quickly put a new pad on her wound before wrapping more gauze around her arm. Sylar shook his head when he saw she was already bleeding through the gauze. Sylar pulled out an alcohol wipe and cleaned a small area on her arm.

Claire followed his moments with her eyes. He took great concentration on tending to her wound. She let out a screech when she saw him pull out a needle that was still in its wrapping. "No!" she told him as she shook her head back and forth and pulled her arm up; blocking his access to her veins, "No more needles!" She didn't care about the excruciating pain as she clutched her arm tighter to her body.

"Claire," he told her dropping the needle and holding his hands up as if he was surrendering, "I'm not going to..."

"Please no more drugs," she begged him.

"Claire, you're pale and at times I see you struggling to keep your eyes open," he said, "I'm not going to drug you, I'm giving you my blood."

"What?"

"I'm hoping that by injecting you with my blood it will help you heal and fight _that_ crap in your system," he explained to her.

"Please…" she beseeched him.

"Claire if you don't stop bleeding, I'll have to take you to the hospital," Sylar told her, "I don't want to leave a paper trail for Danko to follow. But I will if I have to." He looked at her with anxious eyes, "You're losing blood faster than your body can produce and I don't want you to go into shock." Sylar looked at her with eyes that were begging for her to let him do this for her. Sylar had no idea what this drug was or how long before her ability would wipe it from her system. He didn't know if she died with it in her system if she would be able to regenerate. The only thing he did know was the thought of not having her around for eternity terrified him. "Please Claire."

Claire never thought she see this day. To have a serial killer, the man that terrorized her, pleading with her to let him help her. _"I must be dreaming." _ She nodded and before her head went down Sylar was already opening the package. Claire watched as he withdrew a large amount of blood from his arm. She released her hold on her injured appendage as she waited for another needle prick.

"I'm sorry," he told her before he injected the needle into her arm and pushed his blood into her system. Sylar unwrapped the bandage from her arm and took off the pad. He noticed the artery and the muscles were slowly repairing, but not as rapidly as he would like. He poured more hydrogen peroxide on her wound and heard her hiss again. "I'm sorry sweetheart," he said softly as he continued to work. He had securely wrapped her arm again before grabbing the saran wrap.

Claire looked at him as he wrapped her arm in the plastic wrap and then opened a package of waterproof first aid tape. When he was done, he had successfully protected her wound from…water? She looked up at him but he was gone. Panic ran through her body until she heard the shower turn on again. Turning around she noticed Sylar gesturing to the shower.

"Take a shower, I'll be in the other room," Sylar told her, "I have…shit, I didn't get any clothes when I was gone." Sylar pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought of what to do. He couldn't leave her again, she was too fragile. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. He pulled his shirt off and placed it on the counter. "After the shower you can put this on," gesturing to his t-shirt before picking up the cheerleader outfit and grabbing the bloody bandages, "And I'll burn this."

Claire watched him leave and stared at the shower. It had been so long since she was able to bathe; this had to be a dream. She dropped her towel and stepped into the shower closing the door behind her as she immersed herself in the hot water. The water felt wonderful against her skin as it washed away the memories even if it was only for a short time. Claire found herself trying to hold herself up by leaning against the wall. Her strength was quickly fading with the amount of blood she lost today. Claire felt herself falling and she screamed out for her makeshift savior.

* * *

Sylar left Claire in the bathroom and grabbed the empty trash bin. He threw in the clothes and bandages in immediately before going outside. He set it on fire using his blue bolts of electricity. Rubbing his temples to relieve the stress, Sylar wondered if he had the strength to go through this again. Sylar rubbed his wrist just above his watch as he started to relive the past. He barely survived this when it happened to…no, he wasn't going to think about her and Claire's story won't end up like that. He dropped his hand and leaned against the railing. Sylar took a deep breath as he tried to gather his strength. Claire's story wouldn't end up being a tragedy. She would survive what Danko did to her and maybe, just _maybe_ he would be able to seek redemption through Claire for his past failures. The fire had destroyed it continents and he dumped his glass of water in the bin to extinguishing the flames. He then used his telekinesis to throw it into the nearby dumpster. Sylar turned around and walked back into the room.

He looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath, "You can do this," he encouraged himself. His ear picked up Claire's accelerated heartbeat. Sylar walked to the bathroom and listened. After listening for a few seconds, he raised his hand to knock when he heard her scream his name. Sylar ran into the bathroom and open the shower door in time to catch Claire from falling.

Claire was hyperaware that her **naked** body was clinging to Sylar. She heard him turn off the water, "NO!" she protested, "I need the water. I need the cleansing waters."

"You can't stand up Claire," Sylar told her, "and there is no tub in this cheap hell hole."

"The water, it was beautiful."

"What do you want me to do Claire, strip down and join you?" he said sarcastically. His eyes widen when she smiled, "No, no, no, no, no..."

"Please."

"No."

"But…"

"No!" he exclaimed, "I'm drawing the line in the sand and it will not be crossed."

"Sylar…"

"No!"

"It'll warm me up," she said, "remember…I need heat."

"Stop it," he warned her as he heard her sniffle.

"You wouldn't deny me this would you?" she asked him as tears formed in her eyes.

"Fine," he barked out, "but don't think those damn tears will work every time." He set Claire down and threw a towel over her as he thought how to do this to preserve her innocence. He literally only had the clothes off his back to clothe the two of them. Claire was right; she needed to raise her body temperature as he closed the door before dropping his pants leaving him in his black boxer briefs. He considered keeping them on but knew he would be wearing them to bed so he wouldn't be naked. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist as took his briefs off under the towel. He stepped out of them and turned back to Claire who had taken his lead and wrapped the towel around herself. He turned on the shower before giving Claire his undivided attention.

Claire didn't know why she wanted to stay under the water so badly. She just wanted the water to wash away all the bad stuff Danko did to her. It was cathartic for her to having the cleansing waters wash away the grime. It didn't take a psychic to see Sylar's struggle as he wanted to keep a physical boundary between them. When Sylar flinched when he touched that revolting little outfit, Claire was reminded that he had _acquired_ an ability to know the history of something by touching it. She could only image what he had touched in his crusade to find her…what he knew that Danko did to her. She respected his need to protect that boundary. Claire was certain she was dreaming now and didn't care what she had just asked Sylar to do. This version of Sylar could not exist in the real world…it defied logic. Claire decided that she will let this Sylar her mind created to tend to her tonight and tomorrow she will face reality again.

"Claire," he said bringing her attention to him.

She was surprised to see him kneeling next to her. She didn't see him move as she was staring off into space. Claire looked into those eyes again and found something that made her doubt her confidence that she was hallucinating this…maybe it was real…it feels real.

"I'm going to place my arms under your knees and back to pick you up," he informed her, "Then I'm going to let your knees go and place you on the ground. After that I'm going to hold you up, I'm not sure how. Hopefully I'll be able to hold you up by your waist." He saw her nod to his description of what will happen, "Do you want to be facing the water or having it run down your back."

"Back," she responded. _"So I can hold onto you and smell you…so I know this is real."_ Claire saw a flash of something in his eyes. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn he had read her mind. Sylar did exactly what he told her he was going to do in the order he stated. Claire was first confused why he was doing this, but quickly sought comfort in the fact he cared enough to inform her of what he was about to do, like he was asking _her_ permission to touch her. It made her feel like she had some control of her body again and it gave her some security in knowing what he was doing before he did it. There were no surprises if he could help it. Claire rested her head against his chest as she listened to his steady heartbeat. She wrapped her good arm around him and held him close to her. Sylar had his arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her close as the hot water started to cleanse her soul.

"May I move my left arm to your back," Sylar asked, "so I can support you better?" She nodded her approval and felt his hand slowly move up her back, his arm resting along her back and his hand stopping at her shoulder. He tightened his arms around her, holding her more securely to him.

Sylar had turned off the water when it started to turn cold. Claire could still fell the warmth that still lingered in the air from the hot water. He told her he was going to open the door and carry her out of the shower and place her on the toilet. Sylar told her he was going to towel dry her hair but she needed to do the rest. Claire felt strange…a good strange…to have someone dry her hair. Sylar changed her bandage again and frowned that his blood even now wasn't working like he hoped. He could still see her bone but the artery looked like it was piecing itself back together. He asked her permission and gave her another vital of his blood after he redressed her wound. Her face was still pale and her skin still a tad cold for the touch even after that warm shower. He gave her a new towel and told her that when she was ready, he would take her to bed to rest. Sylar placed his shirt next to her before grabbing his jacket, jeans and boxer briefs and leaving the bathroom. He threw the jacket and jeans on the nearby chair.

Sylar quickly dried off and changed back into his underwear as he waited for Claire to call for him. Sylar was pacing in front of the motel beds feeling ridiculous. He just showered with Claire while both of they were dressed in towels, now he was standing here practically naked waiting for her to come out to of the bathroom. He sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands and prayed to whatever higher power still thought he was worth saving for the strength to get through today. There was an odd feeling that came over his body as he held her in the shower. Even after he shut it off, Claire still held on. He initiated them leaving when he told her what he was going to do next. Sylar's head snapped up as he heard the bathroom door open. Claire wobbled out on her own two feet and he felt his breath caught in his throat as he saw her. _"God there was something attractive about seeing a beautiful woman in your clothes," _he thought to himself before catching Claire as she was falling over again. He smiled a little at her stubbornness to stand on her own two feet and not be carried around. It showed him she still had a little fire in her. Sylar could feel her body shiver as he carried her. He pulled the blankets down with his telekinesis and used his hands to pull them up. Sylar was going to the other bed when he felt a small hand grab his own.

"Don't go," she begged him.

"I'm not," Sylar said, "I'm getting the other blankets and wrapping you up in those as well. Then, hopefully with your permission I will crawl into bed with you." Sylar rolled his eyes at what was about to come out of his mouth, "As cliché as this sounds, body heat is my last line of defense to raise that body temperature of yours. I have the room heat on to about 75 degrees. I want to raise it quickly, but not too quickly either..."

"Okay," she said cutting off his nervous ramble that was so unlike Sylar as she released his hand. But all his actions today were unlike Sylar she once knew. Making her believe again that this was all a figment of her imagination and tomorrow she will wake up to Danko's new level of hell.

Sylar quickly grabbed the blankets from the spare bed and laid them on Claire. He saw her scoot over as he crawled in behind her. He tucked her in again as she crawled into his embrace, resting her head on his chest which was quickly becoming her favorite place to rest her head. She heard the locks on the door and windows securely tighten and the curtains slide close. Claire smiled knowing this crappy motel room under Sylar's abilities would be harder to get into than Fort Knots. As Sylar's steady heartbeat lured her into sleep her last thoughts were of the ongoing debate if this was real or not. She inhaled deeply again and was certain her mind couldn't make up this scent that was uniquely his. But has he continued to run his fingers up and down her back in a soothing manner, she was sure this Sylar was a figment of her imagination.

Sylar laid awake listening as Claire's heartbeats and breathing slowed down, signifying that she had fallen asleep. He hoped for pleasant dreams, but knew that wasn't going to happen. Sylar's thoughts shifted to an internal debate where he wondered if he raised his body temperature through the use of Ted Sprague's ability would the radiation hurt Claire in her current condition or not. He silently berated himself in his head as he ran the events of today in his head. Sylar continued to torment himself over the decision to leave Danko alive when he ran towards Claire. There were so many do-over thoughts running through his head. The first thought was that he should have killed Danko quickly before running to Claire's aid. The next thought was that he should have gotten Claire out of there right away and then she wouldn't have been attacked by that coyote. The list of failures ran through his mind and Claire's body snuggled closer to his as he heard her inhale deeply again brought him out of his thoughts. He had to stop thinking of what he should have done and start focusing on the present. He needed to have a plan before sun rose for a new day.

Approximately four hours later, Sylar's eyes started to close as his racing mind had tired him out. His arms pulled Claire closer as his last thoughts before succumbing to sleep where all about Claire and what he could do to save her from the nightmare that is just beginning.


	7. Have A Little Faith In Me

**Chapter 7 Have A Little Faith in Me**

_Two hours later_

Sylar began to stir in his sleep as Claire's heartbeat increased. After she whimpered he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "It's okay," he mumbled in his sleep, "You're safe now. Gabriel's here."

_Claire was hanging from the ceiling by her bonded wrists. Her fat bottom lip was split open and her left eye was swollen shut. The cut on her right cheek had stopped bleeding about an hour ago. Claire's hands were pale from the lack of circulation. She had attempted to escape and Danko had caught her easily with the amount of drugs that was in her system. He tied her up in a dark room and left her there. _

_The room was void of all light, so Claire had no idea how much time had passed or even if it was day or night. The sound of the door opening and the light turning on caused Claire to squint her eyes from the harsh light and by the time her eyes had adjusted Danko stood in front of her holding a wooden baseball bat. He cocked his head to the side as he looked over his handy work; he was good at the art of torture. His sickening smile made her want to throw up with the thought this monster was pleased with himself. She watched as he raised the bat; closed her eyes as he swung hard at her already bruised stomach. He hit her again as if she was a piñata and he wanted whatever was inside. Claire bit back the pain as her pride refused to let him see her cry._

"_Have you learned your lesson yet?" he asked her._

_Claire glared at him through her one good eye before she spit in his face. Danko reached up and wiped the saliva off his face then onto the sheet that was tied around her body like a toga before backhanding to __**reward**__ her defiance. Then he jabbed her in the stomach with the butt of the bat. Claire grunted out in pain, she hated herself for letting him see her cry._

_Danko hit Claire in the chest and heard a few ribs break before he punched her in the face, which caused the cut on her cheek to start bleeding. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. He stabbed her in the arm before injecting her with more ability inhibiting serum. Danko was careful with the amount he put in her system. He used enough to keep her relatively human for his torture but allowed her to still be able to heal at a faster rate so he could be more careless. He reached up and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "We'll see how you feel in a few more days," he told her before he slapped her across the face. Danko stalked out of the room turned off the light and slammed the door behind him, leaving Claire in complete darkness._

Sylar jolted from his sleep because of the images that were Claire's nightmares or memories…he was not sure which. Claire was drenched in sweat; her body shook in his arms from tension and fright of her memory. He leaned over and brushed the hair from her face. "Claire," he said softly as he pulled her closer to him. He felt her body become ridged in his embrace so he pulled back to examine her more closely. "Claire you're safe." Sylar noticed she was rubbing her wrists in a soothing manner. He pulled her hand away to exam her wrists and found nothing wrong. He looked up in time to see a sleepwalking Claire throw herself into his arms and he caught her. "You're safe. He can't hurt you anymore," he told her as she burrowed deeper into his embrace as his hand gently stroked her hair as a comforting gesture, "He's not real. You're safe now. I won't let him hurt you anymore."

_Claire heard the door slam open and sunlight engulf the room. She looked up and saw Sylar standing next to her. _

"_Claire," he whispered._

_She inhaled deeply as her eyes were diverted to the small steak knife he was holding. Her muscles tighten when her brain processed that Sylar was standing next to her with a __**butcher**__ knife._

"_Claire," he whispered again as he reached up and cut her free from her bonds. Sylar held her closely to his body as he placed her on the ground gently. "You're safe now," he told her as he removed the bonds from her wrists. Claire's hands immediately went to massage her wrists to get the circulation back. Sylar's hands removed hers as she watched him exam her wounds. When Claire looked down…there was just her sun kissed light brown hands…no rope burns, no cuts. Then she noticed she was wearing her jeans, a t-shirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers instead of that awful sheet. Claire looked back up at Sylar and got lost trying to decipher the emotion on his face. "You're safe," he whispered to her, "He can't hurt you anymore." She looked around and saw that she was in the park a few miles from her home in Costa Verde. He had taken her home. Without thinking it through, she flung herself into his arms as he wrapped his arms around him. She clung tightly to his body as he started to lift them into the air. His last words before taking flight were, "He's not real. You're safe now. I won't let him hurt you anymore." _

Claire inhaled deeply the unique musky scent she was bathed in and that pulled her away from the memories of Danko. This aroma quickly became a welcomed distraction from her nightmare. Claire felt his arms pull her closer to the intoxicating scent and his hands rubbed her back in a soothing manner. She opened her eyes and saw that they were not in flight to her home but… an unfamiliar room. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror to and noticed the wounds from her memory were gone. It took her a moment to recognize her other cuts and bruises that still lingered. It was just a fake memory that her brain concocted. No one saved her that day Danko had strung her up for….she doesn't even know how long.

Claire inhaled the smell of freedom …_**well**_ as much _freedom_ one could associate with Sylar. Claire pulled away from Sylar to get a better look at him. She couldn't help but wondered if this was real or was… she dreaming? Was she so desperate to be freed from Danko's version of fright fest that she chose a dead man to play the part of her hero in her dreams?

"You're safe now," Sylar told her again as he brushed some stray hairs from her face, "He can't hurt you. I won't let him. You're safe." He had known he was repeating himself, but he told himself he would tell her those words as many times as it took for her to believe them.

Claire looked into his warm chocolate brown eyes and saw the same emotion in them from last night…the one she couldn't label. Her eyes dropped from the intensity she found in them and landed on his naked chest. Pink immediately covered her cheeks as she looked away embarrassed. That she would dream such an intimate and inappropriate encounter with Sylar of all people

Her eyes scanned the room and observed that they were in a crappy motel room. She looked at his naked chest. Then looked down to notice she was lacking clothing and just wore his shirt, before her eyes snapped back up to him. Her heart was racing as she tried to remember the previous day's encounters. "Sylar," she breathed out.

"It's Sylar and you're safe," he said to her as he heard her heart beat faster, "I know that my name and safe don't belong in the same sentence, but you're safe Claire. I won't let…_Danko,_" he spat out the other's man name in disgust, "lay one finger on you ever again." Her heart beat slowed a little, but still was beating at a quickened pace.

Claire observed Sylar's slouched posture and that his hands stayed folded in his lap. It was like the **great** and **almighty** Sylar trying to make himself as small as well as nonthreatening as possible. This felt wrong to Claire. This wasn't the Sylar she knew; he would never make himself look weak and vulnerable. Sylar's presence demanded attention. Nothing about this made sense, _was she still dreaming?_

"This is real Claire," he answered her unspoken question, "We're in a run down motel in Lake Havasu City. I rescued you last night from Danko. Do you remember?"

Claire searched her memories for anything that happened last night.

It hit her like a freight train…

Sylar had attacked Danko before he saved her from being dinner for those coyotes. How he carried her for miles and then tended to her injured arm. Her hand went to her arm as she touched the bandage to confirm it was there. He gave into her request to hold her so she could feel the water cascading down her body. Sylar cared for her. It was real. Yesterday was real. She looked at Sylar as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She was no longer Danko's prisoner, but _his_.

Sylar saw the recognition in her eyes and the fear. He reached out to hold her but recoiled when she jumped back. He mentally cursed himself for the quick movements, "I'm sorry," he whispered. He watched as Claire pulled her legs to her body to make herself smaller, "Don't…" he tried to warn her but was too late. She cried out from the pain from her bruised and tender stomach. "I know you have no reason to trust me Claire," he said, "but I promise you that when you are healed, I will take you to your mother and then I am going to hunt that son of bitch and kill him for what he did to you."

"He's still alive?" she asked in a child's tone as the panic filled her body. She inhaled deeply but couldn't smell Sylar anymore as memories of what Danko did to her started flooding into her consciousness. She lost touch with this reality as the past started to consume her mind. Claire desperately tried to hold onto the here and now with Sylar who was right now the lesser of the two evils in her life. As an attempt to stop the assault of her memories, she drove into Sylar's chest. He wasn't ready for the impact and fallen backwards as Claire wrapped her arms around him, inhaled deeply… she willed the knowledge of this moment being free from the deranged man to replace the memories of her captivity. She felt Sylar wrap his arms around her as she tried to cocoon herself into his embrace. From the corner of her eye she saw the blanket rise to cover the bottom half of her body that was exposed. She was grateful he was protecting whatever virtue he thought she had…not that Danko left her with any. The memories of what he subjected to her faded but her mind continued to race with thoughts of Danko.

Danko was alive. He was more powerful than Sylar. How else could he face Sylar and live? She hadn't known anyone who was more powerful than Sylar…unless they were still partners. Danko had kidnapped her for Sylar's benefit. It would be the perfect crime, the world thought he was dead, and her family would never find her because they were looking for the wrong man. Danko helped Sylar collect more abilities, maybe he helped him get her as well.

"He will be punished I promise Claire," Sylar interrupted her thoughts. "I know I failed you. You have no idea the remorse I feel from it. He got away because …"

"Water," she said as she pulled away from him, "Can I have some water?" There were two things she didn't want to listen to: The first was anything that would bring her back into that hell hole. The second was listening to him apologize for failing her. If this was truly real, then he hadn't failed her. Her fathers and uncle had failed her. Sylar she hadn't see coming.

"Sure," he said as he gestured for her to get off of him. He bit back his smile at the fact she blushed a little when she realized she was straddling him. Sylar rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom to retrieve her water.

Claire noted he wore his underwear and was grateful for it. The memories of the sleeping arrangements were still fuzzy but she was sure he wouldn't have taken advantage of her. He was a killer, not a rapist. She waited until he went into the bathroom before running to the door. She couldn't move the doorknob. She tried the deadbolt and it wouldn't budge. She couldn't even move the chain from its secure position. She silently cursed Sylar's ability. He sealed them in this room together. No one could get in or out without his approval.

"What are you doing?"

Claire gasped as she turned around and brought her hand to cover her startled heart as she saw Sylar stood there holding a plastic cup of water. He turned his head to the side and looked at her like he was trying to figure her out. He must have found what he was looking for as he slowly walked over to her and handed her the water. Claire tried not to touch him as she reached for the water. She gazed down at the continents of the cup but did not drink it. "Nothing," she said as she walked around him to place the cup on the night stand.

Sylar felt the familiar tingle down his spine, "Claire," he said in a tone that told her he didn't believe her.

"I was checking the locks to make sure Danko couldn't get in," she replied, "and I couldn't move it." His brow went down letting her know he still didn't believe her. Claire hated that expression on his face. He wasn't the victim, he was the bad guy. Did he forget that? "What do you except of me!" she screamed at him, unleashing her anger, "You think I have any desire to be your captive after being Danko's prisoner!"

"I'm not taking you hostage Claire," he told her as he held up his hands like he was surrendering to something. His words were calm and he spoke them slowly.

"Yet the inability to leave this room screams '_I'm not holding you hostage,_" she bit back.

"That's not to keep you in Claire," Sylar said in the same slow calming voice as he lowered his hands. He was determined to not match her intensity but bring her down to his. "It's to keep Danko out."

"Why isn't he dead!" she screamed hysterically at him. She wasn't sure why she had been so intense and emotional. It just felt good to be able to feel something and not be punished for it. "I thought killing was your specialty!"

"You!" he shouted back at her as he lost his patience, slow and steady.

"What?" she said startled.

"You stopped me," he said in a normal tone, "I heard you screaming." He watched as she turned away. "I saw the coyote attacking you and left Danko to save you."

"Sylar…"

"I wasn't thinking, something that I do _all_ the time Claire," he continued, "I should have…well you don't need to know the details, then went to you."

"S…" Claire turned back around to see his frustration and anger he had with himself oozing off his body.

"But I reacted to innate feeling to protect you and left Danko. I wanted to make him scream in agony for what he did to you. For the act of terror that I _know_ he did to you."

"Sylar," she said, putting her hand on his arm, "thank you."

Sylar opened and closed his mouth three times, speechless. He wasn't excepting that.

"But it doesn't mean I trust you," she told him before walking toward the bathroom.

"Claire," he called when he found his voice again. He waited until she turned to face him, "I'm not foolish or stupid enough to believe or ask you to trust me," he told her, "I'm asking you to have a little faith in me."

"Faith for what?"

"That I will fulfill my promise to your mother to bring you back to her," Sylar responded, "To protect you from Danko and make sure he gets what is coming to him."

"My mother…"

"But first," he interrupted her, "Let me look at your wounds again. If you want me to check your stomach bruise wrap a towel around your hip."

"Why?"

"To preserve your modesty…"

"Not that," she corrected, "why are you doing this?"

Sylar stayed quiet for a minute like he was trying to find the right words before stating, "Just have a little faith in me Claire. It's all I ask and I promise I won't let you down. Not with this…never with this…" He trailed off, something completely unSylar like.

After a few minutes of silence she realized Sylar was not going to finish his sentence and she walked into the bathroom. "It's safe to come in," she beckoned him as she wrapped a towel around her hips. She waited for him to come. He threw his jeans on the counter before he brought attention back to her.

Sylar put his hand under her chin; moved it slightly to the side and brushed away the hair with his other hand. "I wasn't excepting this."

"What?"

"The cut on your head is practically healed," he stated as he released her chin and used both hands to part her hair, "It's just a tiny scab right now."

"That's a good thing," she reminded him.

"Very good thing," he told her, "I just have no idea about that crap in your system or how long it takes your body to cleanse your system of it."

"The _**rat**_ bastard usually injected me every other day, sometimes every three days."

Sylar nodded to let her know he heard her. He tried to think if he would be able to give her another transfusion of his blood would she be better by tonight? If so, how the hell could he give her a pint of his blood? "I'm going to check your stomach now. Can you lift your shirt to right below your chest?"

Claire did as instructed and was surprised by two things, the size of the bruise and the gentleness of her nursemaid. With her ability, she never thought she would see an ugly injury like this on her body for more than a few seconds. And with Sylar, she never thought he could be as gentle as he was now….well except that time he saved her from the vortex…but just that one time. Her mind started to drift into the different personalities of Sylar when she felt a sharp abdominal pain. "Owe!" she yelled when Sylar touched it, "That hurt."

"How bad?"

"Really bad," she remarked sarcastically. Sylar looked at her before she rolled her eyes, "I'd give it an 8.5 on the pain scale."

"Well it still looks like a bitch too," he commented to who he thought was himself until he noticed her glaring at him, "hop up." Sylar padded the counter as he ignored her scowl.

Claire turned around, put her hands on the counter and tried to pull her body on top. "Owe," she cried out again as her hand went to touch her injured arm, "A little help here, dude." She watched him move in slow motion as he walked over and lifted her onto the counter. "You don't have to be so sluggish around me."

"Yes I do," Sylar insisted. He took off the bandage and looked at her wound. There was still a chuck of muscle missing but he could no longer see her bone. The artery looked repaired. He took it as a good sign.

"It's okay…"

"Trust me Claire," he said as he put more peroxide on her arm, "you'll feel more comfortable with slow movements you can see coming." He wrapped the wound up again before he injected the needle into his arm.

"Like you have experience _taking care_ of traumatized people," she replied with sarcasm laced in her tone, "You're the one _doing_ the terrorizing." Sylar looked at her when she said that and Claire had truly saw him for the first time. And he looked exhausted…mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. His eyes carried the emotional scars that told her a story that didn't need any words. "Oh my God," she paused still locked in his gaze, "Sylar, who…"

He broke eye contact with her before he injected her with another dosage of his blood, "I water proofed your bandage," he abruptly changed the topic, "You can put on my jeans to cover the rest of you."

"What will you wear?" she asked him as he picked her up and placed her firmly on the ground.

"You're looking at it," he told her as he walked out of the room in his boxer briefs, closing the door behind him.

Claire let out a grunt before grabbing the jeans and chased after him, "Sylar," she said opening the door, "You need these more than me."

"My shirt barely covers your ass Claire," he tried to reason with her. "I want to avoid unnecessary attention…"

"You're absolutely right," she challenged back, "An almost naked man as my escort wouldn't draw any of that _unnecessary attention_."

Sylar let out a long sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'd rather have them looking at me than looking at you."

"I'd rather have them not looking at either of us," Claire argued, "We need to blend, which means a low profile…"

"What do you except me to do Claire?" Sylar exclaimed as he dropped his hand, "We're wearing the only clothes I own at this particular moment in time." He took another breath, "Only one of us is going to be fully clothed and I chose you. End of discussion."

"We can compromise," Claire insisted as she threw his jeans at him.

"No," he told her as he caught the jeans then stretched his arm out; he held them out for her to take.

"It can be mistaken for short shorts if no one is paying much attention."

It took him a minute to process what she was requesting of him. "You want to wear my underwear?" he asked her.

"I want us both to have our asses covered," she answered. "I don't want to be gawked at like a train wreck." She put her hand up and gently pushed his outstretched arm back toward him. "You walking around in your boxer briefs will draw that unwanted attention." She took a deep breath and looked at the floor, "I just want to be invisible," she confessed, "and not a freak of nature."

Sylar slowly put his hand under her chin and lifted her face up to his before he wiped away the tears she didn't know she was shedding. Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Okay, you win," Sylar whispered, "I'll do whatever you want."

"I just wanted to be protected and invisible," she confessed to a man she accepted was real but was acting so unlike himself, "because I don't have the strength to fight him anymore. I just want him dead."

"I promise you Claire that Danko is a dead man walking. I know it and more importantly he knows it," he sealed his oath by kissing the crown on her head.

"You're making an awful lot of promises," Claire told him. She wondered if he would deliver them. She had no doubt in her mind he would kill Danko, that's what any killer does, they kill. But she _really_ wanted to believe he would take her to her mother.

Sylar pulled away from her and looked her in the eye, "I do not make promises Claire," he told her, "At one point in time it took too much of me to keep my word. So I stopped making them." His mind drifted to the last woman he promised to keep safe. This story had to end differently. Sylar brought his focus back to Claire, "I don't make promises I don't intend to keep."

"Why?"

"When it comes down to it, a man only true value is his word," Sylar explained. "I may be a monster but this monster never lied to you and I don't plan starting now." Claire nodded before Sylar put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. "Go shower," he instructed. "I'll leave the item of clothing you requested hanging on the doorknob." He watched Claire walk toward the bathroom without hesitation. "I'm going to get you something to eat from the diner up the street." He stuck his thumb in the direction where he was planning on heading.

"You can't leave me alone," she said as she spun around quickly.

"You'll be safe in here," he told her, "This room will be more secure than Fort Knots."

"But what if Danko is out there waiting for you to…"

"I wounded him pretty badly," he reminded her, "He won't be mobile for a few more weeks at least. Even if he struck a deal with the Devil to be healed and provided our location, he still won't be able to get into this room."

"But…"

"I am the gatekeeper," Sylar said, "No one gets in or out without _your_ approval first okay?"

Claire sighed, "Sylar…"

"I'm not stupid or foolish enough to ask you to trust me Claire," Sylar pointed out, "Trust is earned and the only things I earned have been your disgust and distrust. I know that but I'm just asking you to have a little faith in me."

"Faith?" she repeated with a skeptical eye, "How much?"

"I'm asking for something as huge as a mustard seed size," he told her, "if you grant me this, it will be microscopic."

Sylar was right, she trusted him about as far as she could throw him; but he got her this far and every action appeared to be for her well being, not his own. She would grant him microscopic size faith. She nodded her head signally her approval.

Sylar leaned down to kiss her temple but changed his mind at the last moment when he remembered his place in her life. Instead he whispered in her ear, "I'll be back soon."

"Promise," she asked.

He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "Promise." His eyes followed her into the bathroom and waited for the door to close. When he heard the shower turn on he quickly changed out of his boxer briefs and back into his pants. He put on the jacket he stole from Peter and zipped it. Sylar put his underwear on the doorknob and walked out of the door, using his mind to seal her into the room. He tried to open the door with the key and when it wouldn't budge without his mental supports he was satisfied with his work. It was late afternoon so he couldn't fly to the diner. When he was halfway there he pulled out his mobile phone and hit his speed dial.

"Hello."

"Toto," he said, "I have a task for you."

* * *

Claire waited five minutes after hearing Sylar leave; she opened the door and saw his briefs hanging on the door knob. She ran to the door and reached for the lock. Just like earlier she couldn't move the lock and she let out a sigh of relief because she had known as long as Sylar was living, Danko couldn't get into this room. She grabbed the boxer briefs and closed the bathroom door. As she looked at herself in the mirror new fears clutched at her heart. _"What if Danko kills Sylar to get into this room?"_ She quickly locked the bathroom door as she took a deep breath. "He will be back soon," she reassured her reflection, "He promised." Claire took off his shirt and threw it by his underwear. She rolled her eyes at the lack of color. "I'm going to have to introduce that man to more colors than just black," she decided as she stepped into the shower.

* * *

_Odessa, Texas_

"Stop lying Parkman," Noah hissed, "Where the hell is Nathan!"

"Why am I lying?" Parkman asked the other man, trying hard to play the part of the innocent team member.

"I don't know Parkman, you tell me," Noah stated. "Maybe it has to do with the fact that Molly can't find Nathan anywhere on the map!"

"She can't find Sylar either," Matt responded instantly, "Or did you conveniently forget that little tidbit of information?"

"Matt…" Angela tried to say but was cut off.

"Molly's ability isn't working," Matt explained, "She's just a kid and you have her completely stressed out!" Matt had known this was a half lie. Molly's ability was working perfectly fine but she was stressed over the situation and Noah constantly hassling her wasn't making it any better. He had made Molly promise not to look for either men and to tell Bennet that she couldn't find them…that she needed to rest. Molly would do anything for her pseudo father would ask of her and she had no desire to let the boogieman know she was looking for him. Although, she couldn't understand why Mr. Bennet wanted to her to look for the boogieman since they all knew he was dead. And she can't find dead people on the map.

"In my dreams I saw Sylar walking away from Nathan's dead body," Angela disclosed to them.

"No, that was reality three years ago when Sylar killed Nathan!" Matt reminded the deranged woman. He had known that she spoke the truth but he was frustrated and angry with her. He rubbed his temples as he felt a headache coming. He wished to get a hold of Sylar. His phone rang and he reached into his pocket and didn't recognize the number, "Hello."

"Toto, I have a task for you."

"Janice, I was just thinking about you," Matt said, "How's Mattie?"

"Where are you?" Sylar asked.

"We're still in Odessa," Matt explained, "We reached a dead end at Wilcox's grave."

"Good," Sylar told him, "Get your ass to Coyote Sands. Danko got away but I injured the bastard pretty good."

"And Mattie," Matt asked, "You haven't told me about him yet." He wasn't sure if he should hope Claire was with him, Danko, or escaped both of them.

"Do I need to remind you I own you, not the other way around?" Sylar asked rhetorically before stating forcefully, "You do as you're told. Not the other way around."

"I just want to know how his play date went," Matt replied, trying to sound like a doting father and husband.

"You're my eyes and ears," Sylar instructed. "Keep Benent on Danko's scent and call me if there is any news."

"But…"

"I'll be in touch with your next assignment," Sylar told him, "And Parkman, remember what's at stake if you screw this up." Sylar hung up before Matt could respond.

"Okay, I love you too honey," Matt said to dead air, "Give Mattie a kiss for me." Matt closed his eyes and tried to think of a way to get Bennet to Coyote Sands but make it look like a clue from the cemetery. He grabbed the motel room key as well as the car keys. Then he headed toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked.

"Back to the cemetery," Matt replied. "I want to give it another look over."

"I'll come with," Peter said going to pick up his jacket.

"You might want to stay here and keep them from killing each other," Matt pointed to Noah and Angela who were still argued about what went down in the cemetery.

"Good call," Peter agreed going to his mother and Noah.

Matt walked out the door and looked around, "How the hell am I going to pull this one off?"

* * *

_Motel 6, Lake Havasu City, AZ_

Sylar had returned to the motel room approximately 30 minutes later and let himself in. He sealed the room shut behind him. Then he placed the take out bag on the small table. He had successfully unzipped his jacket when tiny hands shoved him. He was not prepared for the assault and stumbled a few steps back.

"Where the hell have you been!" the fiery little blonde demanded.

"Food run," Sylar answered pointing to the bag.

"Well you sure took your sweet time!"

"I was gone," he looked at his watch, "A half an hour. They had to make it."

"It's been….half in hour you say?" she asked as she grabbed his wrist to look at his watch, "It felt longer…that's all."

"Did you miss me?" he asked with an impish grin.

"What?" she exclaimed a little surprised, "God no…I…" She gave up trying to express her thoughts and turned away from him. She walked over to the bed; curled up into a loose ball, careful not to hurt her stomach.

"What aren't you telling me?" he inquired as he knelt down next to her as he laid his head on the bed in her eye line.

"Aren't you hungry?" she said abruptly changing the topic.

"Claire," he said as he touched her wrist, looking at her through concerned eyes.

"It's nothing, really…" she trailed off.

"If it's nothing than you should have no problems telling me."

"You left and I was alone in these impenetrable walls," she explained. "And all I could think was that if Danko killed you, then he could easily get in here and take me again." His eyes softened with more empathy for this broken woman before him. "The memory or the thought of **that** man terrifies me so much that I can't move and I can barely breathe. If he killed you, he could easily capture me again." Claire slid off the bed and crawled into his arms as she buried her head into his chest. "And it kills me to know that I need you as much as I do because you keep that demon at bay. You keep me grounded in this reality." Claire let out a sigh before she continued, "And it's not right because you're a monster. You terrorized me. You hurt me. You stole my ability. And I need you. I'm disgusted with myself on how much I've come to rely on your presence because your face was the one that I saw when I opened my eyes yesterday. How twisted and mess up am I?"

"What happened to you was…there are no words," Sylar told her, "And you should have never gone through that. I'm so sorry Claire that you had to go through that. That my face was you saw and not someone that brings comfort to you." Sylar swallowed his pride and tried to keep the distain from seeping into his next sentence, "I know you wish I was Peter."

Claire pulled away slightly to gaze at him and saw the vulnerability in his eyes. They were hiding so much from her and she just wanted to know the demons that chased him….too… somehow level the playing field. "You mentioned something about food right?" she asked him, feeling tired from all the emotions that ran through her in the past hour.

"Yeah," he said as he pulled completely away to grab the bag, "I got you an omelet with some lovely vegetables and cheese that you have to eat because I used emotional extortion to get these."

"Emotional what?" she asked in disbelief, "You swindle my meal?"

"I may have implied…."

"Implied?" she repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"Or I may have flat out lied that my girlfriend needed to be cheered up and she loves omelets and toast," he explained, "It was the only way I could get breakfast this late in the day." He pulled out the Styrofoam take out container and retrieved a fork from the bag.

"Just so you know, for future reference," Claire said, "Pancakes are my comfort food."

"I figured," he replied as he opened the box and took a small portion of food onto the fork, "But this hits more the of four basic food groups than pancakes." He held up the fork to her, "And I didn't know when the last time you actually ate from said basic food groups. You are a college student and they are notorious for living on pizza, more pizza, and did I mention pizza?"

"I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself you know, I am a college student but I preferred Chinese." Claire chastised and mocked him before she took a bite.

"I know," he told her as he handed over her breakfast, "that was just to get you started. Incase you forgot how to use a fork …since you apparently only eat with chopsticks." He winked at her as he continued, "You're on your own now as I am in desperate need of a shower. There is six weeks of grime I need to scrub from my body."

Claire sat there waiting to hear the shower run before putting her untouched food on the table and crawling into bed. She buried her head in Sylar's pillow and her brain tried to process all that had happened so far. It was unreal. It felt like a dream…a weird dream…no a freak acid trip or something along that line. _**That**_ man could not be Sylar but all signs pointed to this being reality. With this Sylar, he certainly was the lesser of two evils…scratch that, she was pretty sure the familiar Sylar would still be the lesser of the two evils. "Why didn't you find me Peter?" she whispered to the empty room. What she didn't know was her companion heard her in the shower.

Sylar stood in the shower trying to scrub away the memory of living as Nathan Petrilli. When he had successfully scorched his skin as new cells replaced the damaged ones he felt truly cleansed of all things Nathan. His next order of business was to strategize their next move. He needed to get her to Costa Verde back to her mother; then he move them to a secure location to hide them from Danko before going after said bastard and ripping the bastard's tiny heart out of his chest with his bare hands. First and foremost, he needed to obtain an automobile legally to get them to California.

The silence in the room was becoming too much as Claire reached for the remote and flipped through the channels. She stopped on an episode of _The Twilight Zone_ and thought of her bio dad:

"_What are you watching?" Claire asked as she let herself into her biological father's Manhattan apartment._

"_Only the greatest show ever made," Nathan replied. He turned to her and said in an announcer's voice "You have just entered the Twilight Zone."_

"_Really?"_

"_Yeah, I know it was way before my time but my mother recorded every episode from the Syfy channel or Nick at Night, whatever flip'n station. Then the joy of season box sets came into my world. I felt like Timmy all over again."_

"_Timmy?"_

"_The Dickens' character from A Christmas Carol," he responded instantly. He noted Claire's confused expression, "You are in dire need of some culture girl."_

"_I'm still processing the fact that you actually watch something other than the news."_

"_Shut up and experience the Zone with me," he ordered, padding the seat next to him._

"_You are such a nerd!" she told him as she sat down next to him._

Sylar came out of the bathroom and saw Claire zoning out in front of the television. He went over to the table and opened her take out container. He let out a long sigh before he grabbed her meal and sat down next to her. The movement of the bed brought her attention to him, then to the fork by her mouth. "You need to eat more," Sylar told her.

"I ate."

"The one bite I fed you doesn't count as eating," Sylar stated. "I'm pretty sure that qualifies as sampling." He gestured to the fork again and she shook her head, "You need to keep your strength up Claire; your ability is still fighting off that crap."

"Sylar…"

"Claire I will admit that I'm not acting like myself and I gave in on every request you had of me," he recalled to her, "but this one tiny little battle, I will win." She rolled her eyes in response. "I will resort to making airplane noises while moving the fork in obscure directions if you want me to treat you like a child." She scowled at him before she took a bite. "Thank you," he said with a small smile before he grabbed another tiny serving.

"I'm not very hungry," she told him, "Da…he…I haven't….he never…" She couldn't say it because she couldn't remember the last decent thing she ate.

"I know," Sylar replied cutting her off, "and I'm not excepting you to down this like homeless man at an all you can eat buffet." He brought the next bite to her lips and watched as she took it without resistance.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"In a while,"

"Monkey see, monkey do."

"Can the monkey feed herself then?" he inquired.

"Probably not," she replied as she crawled out of bed to grab the remaining container. She brought it back to the bed and opened it up. "Eggs."

"You were hoping for pancakes."

"Chocolate chip to be exact," she told him, "Then you can have the crappy eggs and I could have the goodness of the pancake."

"Sorry to disappoint," he stated as he lifted the fork again, "eat more protein."

"You first," she said holding up a fork. When he rolled his eyes at her she used his remark against him, "You know if you don't eat something, I will have to resort to making airplane noises while moving the fork in obscure…" Sylar cut her off by eating off of her fork, "Thank you." She turned her attention away from Sylar. She then ate half of her egg and a slice of toast. After that she closed the container and pushed it away.

"I want to check your wound again," he told her, "see how it's progressing."

"When can we leave?"

"When you're ability is back. The risk of infection is too great. You don't have the white blood cells to fight infection."

"Okay," she agreed him as she watched him clean up the food and grabbed the medical supplies.

"I love this episode," he told her as he cleaned her wound.

"Huh?" she said as she was too engrossed in watching him work to pay attention to his words.

"_Person or Persons Unknown,_" he explained, "This was my favorite _Twilight Zone_ episode."

"Why?" she asked, she remembered it was also Nathan's favorite.

"A man who essentially looses his identity as no one in his life knows him," Sylar explained her, "They put him in an asylum because they don't believe him. He escapes and finds a picture of him and wife and shows it to the cops to prove his identify. The twist is the cops see a picture of only him. He wakes up in his bed to find it be a dream….but the Twilight twist is his wife talks the same but looks different. So what was his true reality?"

"Why is it your favorite?"

"I can relate to your life not feeling like your life," Sylar said, "And then to find out your life is different than it should be and is turned upside down and you can't escape it. It's…"

Claire closed her eyes as he finished his sentence, "Kismet." Things were starting to fall into place. Sylar showing up when he did, Peter not believing her when she told him about Nathan's obsession with a 1960's television show, when Sylar told her that he promised her mother he would bring her home. Her mother would never willingly be that close to him. "How did you know I was missing," Claire asked, "When did you see my mother?"

Sylar looked up at her as he saw the recognition in her eyes as all the puzzle pieces fell into place, "I can explain…"

"You were impersonating him!" she cut him off.

"Not willingly," he tried to explain, "Parkman…"

"You killed my father! And then you pranced around like him." She jumped off of the bed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Was any of my time with Nathan real? Or was it all you!" she shouted at him. When he didn't responded she raised her voice, "Answer me!"

"I don't know," Sylar said, "I was fighting to take back control of my body…."

"You murdering bastard!" Claire screamed, "This was all an act. Whose body did we burn! You had Danko kidnap me and do…all that to me!"

"NO!" Sylar shouted, "Claire the moment I knew you were in danger I fought like hell to get out of that prison. I tried but your father…"

"Do I even have a father left!" she asked him as she turned around. Claire saw a motel pen and picked it up quickly.

Sylar scrambled off the bed to stand behind Claire, "Yes I killed Nathan," he admitted, "and the next thing I know I'm looking at myself trapped in Nathan's body. I didn't do that. I would never do that."

"You're lying!"

"Claire, when have I ever lied…" he had not been able to finish his sentence as Claire turned around and jammed the pen into his eye. She ran to the door as he fallen over in pain. The lock turned easily as Sylar's mental hold was gone the moment the pen contacted with his eye. She ran out the door into the outside just as the sun started its descent into the horizon.

Sylar pulled the pen from his eye and ran after Claire as his eye began to repair itself, "Claire!" he yelled after her, "It's not what you're thinking! Well not completely!" He stopped and looked around as he couldn't see her. He closed his eyes and tried to hear her among the noise.

* * *

Claire had rounded a corner and looked back to see if Sylar was chasing after her when she hit a solid mass. She felled backwards hitting the ground, "Owe."

"Watch where you are….Candy?" the male voice asked.

Claire was ready with her response when she heard that name. Candy was the name Danko gave her when he was _making his movies_ while Danko played the part of Doug the director.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her as he held out his hand to help her up.

Claire immediately scrambled away from him as she stood up and started to run away when she felt a firm grip on her upper arm. "Let me go," she said.

"Answer my question," the young man demanded, "Are you filming here? Why wasn't I called?"

"Leave me alone you sick bastard!" she commanded as she slapped him with her free hand, "Let me go!"

He slapped her back and grabbed both of her arms, "Not until you tell me what the hell I did wrong you little whore! Doug told me I was a shoe in, a natural…so tell me what the fuck happened!"

"You're an asshole," she said, "A natural born rapist you should be proud."

The man shook her, "And you're nothing but a two bit whore! Now tell me what I did wrong that he made him changed his mind about me!"

"I didn't…"

"Liar!" he shouted, "I needed that break. Doug told me I would be called for the role and was going to talk to you about it. What did you tell him?"

"You are a sick bastard!"

"I'll show you a sick bastard," he said as he kissed her hard. When he jammed his tongue into her mouth she bit down hard. He pulled back in pain. The man hit her again and pulled her back, "You lying little whore. You will answer me!" he told him, "I need that job for the money. What did you tell him I did wrong!"

"First of all..." a stone cold voice answered that had send shivers down their spine, "You had the nerve to call such a beautiful and kind hearted woman a _whore_."

The young man looked over Claire's shoulder at a tall dark hair man who stood a few feet from him. The man thought his eyes were playing tricks on him as the stranger's hands seemed to have bolts of electricity bouncing from his finger tips. "This doesn't concern you."

"Oh it very much concerns me," Sylar responded in an icy tone, "The moment your slimy hands touched her, it became my business."

Claire had gone up against Sylar numerous times in her life, but she had never _heard_ that tone before…and she was grateful to God it wasn't directed at her or any of her loved ones. She looked up at the young man who didn't know he was raping her and almost felt pity for him…almost.

"Second: I have counted four acts of violence against her and if you do not remove your hands from her body in the next five seconds, not even whatever God you pray to can help you…" Sylar's sentence trailed off as the young man did as he was told. Claire took off running to Sylar and continued after passing him. "Good boy," he told the other man, "Now where was I?" Sylar pretended to think before responding, "Oh I know. Third, you forced yourself on this beautiful woman and now have the audacity to ask her why she doesn't want it to happen again."

"I was auditioning for a porno…" the young man's hands had gone to his throat as he felt his airways constrict when the stranger lifted his left hand and squeezed the air out of him.

"Here's a hint, asshole." Sylar gritted out, "If she's drugged up and screaming no…it means she doesn't want to be there."

The young man's eyes started to water as he gasped for his next breath. "Please…"

Sylar's concentration was broken when he heard Claire crying. He turned away and couldn't see her there. "You deserve to die," he declared, "but you will suffer a fate worse than death…well if you survive it that is…"

The misguided man's eyes widened before he let out an ear piecing scream---that thanks for one of Sylar's abilities---no one heard. When he was done castrating the young man, he used Parkman's ability to make him forgot ever meeting Claire or himself.

* * *

Claire kept running until her legs gave out. She fell to the ground and curled up into a loose ball as the tears flooded from her eyes. She didn't know what hurt more: what Danko did to her, her family abandoning her, or the fact Sylar had just saved her twice in a twenty-four hour span of time. She cursed herself knowing the pain ranked first and foremost with Danko, her family, and then Sylar…who has kept her on her toes. Lastly she cried for Nathan, the father she will never know now, thanks to her makeshift hero of late.

"Claire?" one of the subjects of her thoughts called.

"You bastard!" she screamed as she jumped up and started pounding her tiny fists into his chest as she sobbed hysterically. She kept hitting him until her strength faded and he caught her which kept her from falling. Claire allowed him to pick her up and carry her back to what she could only assume was the motel room. She buried her face into the crock of his neck as she continued to mourn the loss of so much.

Sylar mentally locked everything behind him. He laid her on the bed and sat across from her on the adjacent bed. He leaned forward with his arms resting on his legs.

"When?"

"Three years ago," Sylar told her, "shortly after our chat in the hotel room."

"Why?"

"He was hunting us Claire," Sylar replied, "He had to be stopped."

"Why?"

"I just…"

"No," she clarified, "Why were you him?"

"That's a discussion you need to have with your father, Angela, and Parkman," he told her. "Angela and Bennet had Parkman do that to me making me believe I was Nathan and not myself. I held on for dear life to not be wiped away. The end result was that I had shape shifted into Nathan's body and whenever I was creeping into the conscious Parkman voodoo my mind again."

As much as she hated to admit it, it had explained the quick friendship between Nathan and Matt Parkman. Why her father hated her spending time with Nathan…it was because he known Nathan was really Sylar. It finally made sense to her. Why her mother would have been with Sylar and had let him make that promise to her. He wore another face.

"I'm not asking you to trust me Claire," Sylar stated, "I know that's a fool's errand. I'm just asking for…"

"A little faith," she replied to him, "No."

"I will get you home. I'll keep you safe….I'll get Danko…" he tried to promise her.

"No," Claire said again, "I won't give you any amount of faith without something in return."

"What do mean?" he asked her.

"You know so much of what Danko did to me," Claire begun to explain, "I saw it in your eyes when you touched that…that outfit yesterday." Claire watched as his gaze gone to the floor. "You saw everything through those objects you touched in your quest to find Danko. You know everything and I have nothing!"

"What do you want?"

"Something of you,"

"My family?"

"No," Claire answered, "something no one knows that can hurt you if it gets out."

Sylar racked his brain trying to think of something. There was nothing that would be of interest to her that he would want to divulge. But then again…that was her point. She wanted something of him to try and come close to what he known of her. "I moved my kill switch…" he started to say, he had known after today he could move it again.

"No," Claire interrupted as she watched Sylar's head snap up in shock. He figured this would have been something she'd wanted to know, how to kill her monster. "You can always move that to your pleasing."

Sylar shook his head, he admired how she saw right through him, "You have to give me a hint Claire because you want something and I don't know what it is. I figured it would have been how to kill me since you've done it before."

"And it worked so well didn't it?" she retorted.

"Well you certainly did try," Sylar commented. "What do you want?"

"This morning in the bathroom," Claire recalled, "I want to know who it was that caused that scar."

"Anything but _that_…," Sylar responded quickly.

"That is the price of admission," Claire said, "or I keep trying to escape from my father's killer."

Sylar looked at the floor again as he did a mental pro/con list as he tried to find the lesser of the two evils. If his top priority was protecting Claire, he couldn't be wasting his time chasing after her either. Because of everything she went through with Danko, he did not want to take control of her body; that would cause even more harm to her. "If I do this," he told her, "You cannot talk."

"Sylar…"

"I mean it Claire," he said, "No interruptions and you stay until you hear the end of this monster's tale." He watched as she made a motion like she was locking the door to her mouth before throwing away the key. Sylar took a deep breath as he looked up at the ceiling before he brought his gaze back to Claire. "Her name was Cassie," he said slowly and quietly, "And I was 12 years old when I killed her."


	8. A Monster's Ballad

**Author's Note:** Sylar will be disclosing part of his childhood that is outside of the _Heroes _universe. It is entirely my own creation.

Also, thanks to Estelle Stanford for being an awesome beta!

* * *

**Chapter 8 A Monster's Ballad**

Millions of thoughts were racing through Claire's mind. Sylar was truly, honest to God, _the_ definition of a sociopath. _What kind of a monster had his mother raised? His victim zero was when he was 12 years old! Did he have his ability then or killed her for another reason? _Claire's eyes done a quick scan of her surroundings, trying to find something she could use to defend herself with. She had known she would not be able to leave this room without injuring him like last time. Sylar would be more alert to her desire to place miles between them. Her thoughts were interrupted by a small voice.

"You promised you'd hear the whole story," his voice was barely a whisper as she was emerged in her thoughts of how to escape the serial killer.

Claire's eyes gone to Sylar and she couldn't really believe what she saw. Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. Sylar was hutched over; which gave the impression of being small, insignificant, remorseful, and guilty. Four adjectives she never thought she would have associated with this man because monster, murderer, evil…one could go as far as to say he was the devil incarnated was more fitting. When would the bizarre behavior of his go away? When would _her_ Sylar come out to play? Even when he confessed to something very Sylar-like, he still looked unlike Sylar. He resembled a lost little boy who did something wrong and was now waiting for his punishment. "I did promise that," she said with some hesitation, "But it doesn't mean I want to hear all the gory details." Sylar nodded in compliance. "What was her ability that you were coveting…"

"I didn't walk her to school," he said as he lowered his head, "and then I couldn't hold on anymore."

She was not excepting _that_. More importantly, she had not known what to make of those two tiny statements. Did this girl even have ability? "I think I might need those gory details Sylar," she requested, unable to keep the confusion from her tone. _"And please God, do not let them actually be gory."_

He looked at her with rueful eyes, "I'm not sure you if you remember me telling you, but before I _died_ to the world; I had found out my parents weren't my parents."

"Sounds vaguely familiar," Claire lied to him as she watched him bury his head in his arms that were resting on his knees. She recalled that day like she had with every moment and every encounter with him. Even after he was _dead_ for three years, he still was a part of her life no matter how much she tried to rid herself of him. He was her own personal demon she felt would follow her for eternity. Now he was alive, she had been sure that statement continued hold true. "But what does that have to do with..." she trailed off when Sylar lifted his face.

"The **one** thing beaten and bled into my very soul by my fathers is I was insignificant…I wasn't worth my salt," he confessed one of his greatest fears to her, "which is ironic since my own biological father sold me like a commodity. Only to be abandoned a few years later by the buyer and left to be raised by a woman who had an obvious psychosis."

"Sylar…" she tried to interrupt. She had not wanted to go down this path. She had not wanted to feel empathy for her original waking nightmare.

"No," he said immediately, "Whatever words coming from your mouth I don't want. I know I deserve your discontent and your malice, but…you have no idea how hard this is for me say out loud, probably just as hard as it will be to hear," he paused before he continued, "Please, you promised no interruptions."

Claire nodded unsure of what to do in this prison she was trapped in. Was this monster really seeking her compassion? Her understanding? She had not been sure what to make of this Sylar. This version of the serial killer would not look at her when he talked. He was either stared at the floor or over her left shoulder; but never at _her_.

"The day Martin Gray went to buy cigarettes and never came back was the day I became the man of the house," Sylar told Claire.

"I thought you were just a boy, seven or eight," Claire asked for clarification.

"Does it really matter if I was six or sixteen?"

"You were…"

"My mother was deranged and unstable," he brought the real issue to the surface, "And my father couldn't…no, didn't want to tend to her anymore. He didn't sign on for a crazy wife and certainly not a child…especially his brother's _cast off_." Memories from _that_ day flooded his consciousness. He shook his head vigorously, he tried to rid himself of the past and will himself back into the present. He opened his eyes and saw Claire looking at him, unsure of what to say or do. "That day my childhood ended," Sylar disclosed to her, "As I was the only one left to care for my…for the mentally unhinged Virginia Gray."

Claire noticed the instant he started calling his adoptive parents by their first name as if he was trying to put some distance between the memories and himself, to shield himself from the fallout. Claire sent out a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord Almighty for Noah and Sandra Bennet as well as never having experience what this man had endured growing up.

"After a few months," his voice coaxed her out of her thoughts and back to him, "we couldn't afford the rent. Virginia sold our prize possessions to earn some quick cash and moved us into a rougher neighborhood. She gave up security for the cheaper rent." Sylar looked at Claire for the first time since he began his journey to the past. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather know my kill spot?" he asked, abruptly changing the topic, "It's worth more than this poignant narrative of my wretched childhood." He dared to hope she would change her mind. It was immediately crushed with a shake of her head.

Claire thought about it. It would be what her father would want but she saw the struggle he had with this. This piece of information would be more valuable than a spot that can move to his every whim. "This is what I want," she answered, "to even the scale." _To possibly get the upper hand on you, _she thought to herself. It was his resistance and how eager he was to basically give her the weapon to kill him that drawn her in, like a moth to the flame. She was curious to know what made someone who bragged about his victim's abilities he had "collected" to be like this. _What is so special about this one?_ _Does this sociopath still have some __**humanity**__ left in him?_ Would this give her insight on his obsession with her? She couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to keep buried deep inside of his subconscious. Before her brain had even registered the action, her hand had reached over and squeezed his in encouragement.

When he felt her squeezed his hand, he pulled his own away as if she had burned him. He tried to ignore the surprise on her face and the small gasp of air. "Please don't…" he slightly begged her, "I don't deserve it. You of all people should know that." He looked away from her as he brought his gaze back to the floor. "It took a month for me to realize why Martin couldn't bare living with her anymore. Virginia was unbearable and cruel to live with on a good day. She was physically, psychologically, and emotionally abuse."

Claire rolled her eyes at him. _Of course he will blame is mother for his sins._

"But I do not hold her responsible for my actions," he answered her without reading her mind, "My actions are my own." Sylar saw her hand before he felt it under his chin, pulled at his face to get him to look at her. He obeyed her silent request without any resistance.

"She got fixated on this idea that I was her _special_ boy," Sylar confessed, "and I don't know why. She terrorized me into submission of her crazy whims. I didn't know anything. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was drowning in her insanity. I understood Martin's desire to cleanse her from his life. But I couldn't leave her. I loved her and I was all she had left in this God forsaken world." He shifted his focus onto the nightstand. "By a twist of fate," he continued with his story, "we moved next door to an old high school friend she hadn't seen in years, Emilia De Luca and her daughter Cassandra. Cassie, who was about three years older than me and as far as I could tell… she didn't have ability. Unless you count her ability to make me feel like I was worth my salt." He paused for a few seconds before adding, "And more importantly, she was my salvation."

Claire waited patiently in silence for him to continue. After a few minutes she noticed Sylar was staring into space, lost in some memory. Judging by the small smile on his face, she guessed it was a good one.

* * *

_A young Gabriel Gray struggled to carry two huge boxes up the stairs to his new home. They felt heavier by the second and blocked his vision. But his mother told him she was a special boy and special boys could carry boxes two at a time with no trouble. Gabriel miscounted the steps and had tripped over the last step. He fell forward and landed hard on the floor as the boxes stumbled onto the ground ahead of him._

"_Are you okay?" a concerned feminine voice asked him._

"_Yeah," he responded as he refused her hand of assistance and picked himself off the floor, "I didn't see the last step."_

"_I'm surprised you could see anything," she observed as she picked up the closest box to her, "So where are we going?"_

_Gabriel reached out to grab the box. He knew this mother would be displeased to see this strange… but pretty girl carrying the box. "I can get it," he told her._

"_I know, but I'm still helping." She started walking down the hall, "What apartment?"  
_

_Gabriel scrambled to get the other box and run after her, "8D," he informed her._

"_No way! I'm in 8C!" she exclaimed before predicting: "We are neighbors and we will be the best of friends."_

"_Okay…" he responded hesitantly._

"_Welcome to the building," the young pixie stated with a smile before adding, "neighbor."_

"_Thanks…I g...guess," Gabriel stuttered out._

_  
They reached his door in record time. Gabriel took out his key and opened it. He called for his mother and was grateful when she had not responded. They placed their boxes down and the young girl already headed out the door._

"_If you need anything, I'm right across the hall."_

"_Wait!" he said quickly, "I don't even know you're name."_

"_Cassandra De Luca," she told him, "but call me Cassie, not Cassandra, unless you'd like me to be angry with you!"_

"_Okay," he said timidly._

"_You got a name string bean?"_

"_Gabriel Gray," he whispered._

"_That's a pretty name. I like it."_

_Gabriel felt his cheeks warm, "Thanks."_

_

* * *

  
_

"Sylar," Claire said for what felt like the billionth time. She swore she saw a red tint to his cheeks.

Sylar snapped back to reality and immediately noticed a small hand waving in front of his face. He reached up and grabbed her wrist. His gaze followed the arm up to Claire's face, "Sorry," he apologized before he had let go.

"Don't be." Claire wasn't sure how to bring up what he talked about before he zoned out. "You said she was your salvation." It was a bold statement he made and she wanted to know how Cassie gone from his salvation to his victim.

"She was a light in the dark world I dwelled in," he clarified, "She didn't care what I wasn't or couldn't be. As cliché as this sounds… she liked me for me." He inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly, "She was my best friend in the entire world. She knew me inside and out. And I think I might have loved her."

"Then why did you kill her?" she asked bluntly.

"Because I was feeble, impressionable, and so desperate to hold her attention so I wouldn't be cast aside like Martin did to me."

* * *

_Virginia was walking back from the mailbox when her neighbor's door opened and a black haired woman stuck her head out. "Where are you child? You're going to be late for school!" an older version of Cassie said, "Ginny? Is that you?"_

_Virginia turned to a see an older version of a woman she had not seen in nearly a decade since the last class reunion. "Emmy?" she said in disbelief, "Emmy De Luca."_

"_Yes," Emmy replied as she embraced the other woman, "how have you been?"_

"_Not too great," Virginia answered, "My husband died a few months back."_

"_Mother," Gabriel called as he stepped out of the apartment and found his mother conversing with a strange woman, "I have prepared….who are you?"_

"_Gabriel," she responded, "this is my old high school friend, Emilia De Luca," _

"_Ms. De Luca," Gabriel greeted and stuck out his tiny hand, "It's a pleasure meeting you."_

"_Emmy dear, call me Emmy," she said as she shook his hand, "You are quite the young gentleman."_

"_He takes after his deceased father," Virginia remarked with a sorrow laced in her tone._

"_Father isn't…"_

"_And such a handsome little man too," Emmy interrupted as she leaned over and pinched his cheek. _

_Gabriel responded by swatting her hand away. He hated it when people did __**that**__. It made him feel like a child, and he wasn't a child…he was __**the**__ man around here. "Please ma'am," he told her, "I prefer not to have my cheeks violated in such a manner."_

_Emmy just laughed, "Your son speaks like he's twenty years older than he is."_

"_I raised a gentleman," Virginia beamed with pride._

"_Have you met my daughter…?"_

"_Gabe," Cassie called as she stalked out of her apartment, "I've decided to give you the privilege of walking me to school today."_

"_Cassie manners!" her mother chastised her._

"_It's okay Ms. De Luca," Gabriel reassured, "Cassie and I have come to an arrangement…"_

"_Oh stops being so wordy," Cassie interrupted, "We all get it, you're smart. Use everyday English like the rest of us!"_

"_Cassie…" her mother stated._

"_It's okay Ms. De Luca…"_

"_Emmy."_

"_Emmy," Gabriel told the older woman, "I am here to provide Cassie with protection as we go to school."_

"_Uh-huh," Cassie nodded in agreement, "He keeps the creeps away."_

"_The what…?" Virginia started to question._

"_I'm ready whenever you are," Gabriel stated as he pulled on the strap of his backpack, "Good bye mother. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. De Luca." He kissed his mother on the cheek and walked with Cassie down the hall._

"_Now listen hear Gabe…"_

"_My name is Gabriel."_

"_Gabe," she dismissed his correction, "The first thing we need to do is to get you to speak English."_

"_I am conversing in English."_

"_But you're not using proper English…you're speaking some variation of something...but it's not English."_

"_I am using the proper English, you young miss are not."_

_Cassie looked at her young friend with such wide eyed horror it was like he just confessed to killing her cat because he felt like it. She placed an exasperated hand on her forehead before exclaiming, "I got my work cut out don't I?"_

"_It's have, not got."_

"_Huh?"_

"_To quote you, you stated 'I got my work' when it should have been…"_

"_Oh shut up Gabe!"_

"_My name is Gabriel, not Gabe."_

"_Well __**Gabe**__, school I that a way." She nodded her head to the left._

_

* * *

  
_

"Emmy De Luca divorced her husband when Cassie was three years old," Gabriel explained, "His parting gift was getting Emmy addicted to serious drugs."

"Her mother was an addict?"

"That's putting it lightly," Sylar stated, "And my mother was too immersed in her fantasy world to know what was going on. When we first moved she told everyone Martin died, then he was miraculously alive again. That was until she killed him again in her mind. It didn't take the neighbor's long to realize what a kook she was; but they humored her instability." He moved slightly away from Claire as he found himself to be uncomfortable being that close to her. "Cassie practically lived in my room," Sylar recalled, "We both dwelled in chaos, but we had each other to lean on." Sylar felt his eyes start to water and turned his head away from Claire as he tried to keep the tears from falling. "Cassie was unique and had radiance about her. I was drawn to her like a sailor to a Siren's fatal song. She made me feel things I never felt before."

"Like what?" she inquired as her curiosity was peaked, "And don't be perverse about it."

"She made me feel like a somebody," Sylar responded, "I was nerdier than even you can imagine Ms. Bennet; I was not popular in any way. When I wasn't invisible, I was bullied. My first day at the new school no one picked on me because of her; she made sure of it. I'm not sure I can explain what it felt like."

"What?"

"She made me feel incredibly important, that my existence matter," he recalled, "We lived in a rough neighborhood infested with gangs. It was my responsibility to escort her to and from school. She made a big show of it for my deranged mother how her _special_ son kept her safe everyday." Sylar rubbed his face at the memory of Virginia's proud smile, "It didn't help Virginia's delusion that I was anything but extraordinary, no matter how much I told her I was as plain as the day was long."

Claire snorted.

"What?" he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Plain as the day is long," she responded as she listed her reasons on her fingers, "One: who talks like that? No one, that's who. Two: Isn't it your life's mission for everyone to know how _special_" she spat out the word with distain, "you are."

Sylar waited for her to continue and when it was clear she wasn't; he prompted her to continue with, "Three."

"Three what?"

"What's the third thing?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, clearly confused.

"You don't make a list of things to say and stop at two," he pointed out her grammatical error, "Proper grammar demands at least a list of three things, if not more…"

"Well I guess now you can because I don't have a third thing," she said. She glared at him when he shook his head at her because it made her feel like he was belittling her, "Third, you're a rat bastard. Better?"

"Ecstatic, you made me and your English Professor very proud."

"Carry on Satan," she ordered with a slight wave of her hand, "You were telling me you were walking…sorry, _escorting_, her to school…why were you doing that?"

"Safety in numbers," he responded courtly, "She was so unbelievable beautiful, much like yourself," he added as the memory of Cassie's smile made him grin. Claire shifted uncomfortably, unsure who he was smiling at. "She was one of those true beauties," he said as he brought his attention back to Claire. His face was beaming and Claire stopped fidgeting, his cat caught the canary grin wasn't for her. "Her character and heart matched the beauty of her face. Boys lusted after her. The good boys wanted her because she was _good_. The bad ones, well they just wanted to see if she was corruptible. Cassie could be with anyone, be friend anyone, share her secrets with anyone and she chose _me_…uncoordinated and socially inept Gabriel Gray."

"Socially inept?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Layman's version: it means uncool," he explained as he rolled his eyes, "I swear I need to procure a dictionary **and** thesaurus to assist in the quest to expand your terminology."

"I know what it means," she said with snark, "And I don't need to expand my vocabulary…"

"It would help with college papers," he informed her, "And if you ever planned on going to graduate school. The GRE has a section devoted to vocabulary…"

"You know," she said focusing his attention away from his fixation to expand her vocabulary, "I'm having trouble trying to picture you so…so…" She trailed off trying to find the appropriate word.

"So?"

"_Vulnerable_," she said softly, "These last twenty-four hours have changed my perception of you. You're reeking of vulnerability when you should be oozing with…"

"You promised no interruptions," he cut her off, "this is hard enough as it is. I'm sure we can both agree that I'm a parasite and sucks the…"

"That's not what I was..."

"Moving on," he strongly suggested, "or… I can be more like that _precious_ Sylar you seem to be yearning for."

"I'm sorry." She meant it. Claire didn't know what button she hit, but Sylar reacted. _Oh boy did he react._ She made a mental note to revisit this when she wasn't his captive. Instead she refocused back on Cassie; Claire began to speculate if Sylar killed her for her popularity with people. Cassie had the one thing he still hadn't been able to obtain for himself: Acceptance. He was envious of her likeability and wanted it for himself. He couldn't get it by association and he thought he loved her…Maybe she hadn't return his love and he killed her for it. _How did he begin his tale again? When he was…_

"I'm sorry," he said, "you were very perceptive and it reminded me of…and I couldn't go back there." Claire nodded as if she understood, but really she had not a clue what he said or why he apologized to her.

"Cassie used to tease me relentlessly," Sylar told her as a peace offering for his outburst, "for being so good and doing everything I was told." Claire snorted in disbelief and he glared at her. She rolled her eyes before meeting his gaze, challenging him to disagree with her. Sylar looked at the ground in defeat…Claire was right…he was monstrous.

"One day I was fed up with her constantly taunting me with being a goodie-too-shoes," he picked up with he left off, "So I played hooky."

"How old were you?"

"Twelve," he told her, "Cassie was beaming with pride." He shook his head and let out a small laugh at the memory. "I remember that day like it was yesterday…"

* * *

"_Gabe, why are you still in bed?" she asked as she bounced into the room and then jumped onto his bed._

"_Can't you see I'm sick," he replied with a sly smile and an overtly fake cough._

"_Finally!" she exclaimed throwing her hands up in victory, "I have corrupted the incorruptible Gabriel Gray! It only took six years!" She jumped to her feet and started a victory dance. She pushed her arms out and pulled them in repeatedly as she swayed her hips. _

_Gabriel laughed at the sight that reminded him of a chicken's final run after being beheaded, "You're preposterous, you know that right?" _

"_I'm what…?" she asked as she stopped her dancing._

"_Preposterous. It means completely contrary to nature, reason, or common sense," he explained. When she turned her head to the side and looked at him confused he continued, "Absurd…utterly foolish."_

"_Color me insulted," she told him with smile, "Just so you know phase two in 'Operation corrupt Gabriel Gray' will be changing your vocabulary to be more user friendly." _

"_There is nothing wrong with my lexicon!"_

"_Lexi what?" she asked, "Never mind, I don't care," she quickly dismissed his vocabulary lesson, "You only just proved my point."_

_Gabriel rolled his eyes in response before promising, "For your birthday I am getting you a dictionary."_

"_Oh be still my heart," she dramatized sarcastically as she put her hands over her heart, "What every girl dreams of getting for her sixteenth birthday…car be damned!" She watched her best friend roll his eyes at her again._

"_Cassie," Virginia called as she walked into the room, "you're going to be late for school. You'll have to go alone since my special boy is sick and I'd hate to leave him alone."_

"_You can take her mother," Gabriel responded. He didn't think his plan out completely, forgetting his responsibilities as her escort, "I will be fine until you get back."_

"_It's no bother…"_

"_I insist," he told her, "or else I will have to __**escort**__ you myself." Gabriel pulled off the covers and sat up. He stressed the word to Cassie accepting her challenge in attempting to change the way he speaks. _

"_I wouldn't want Ginny's special boy to get out of his sick bed for 'little' old me," she with a smirk. She pushed him back onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. "Thank you for __**walking**__ me to school." She placed extra emphasize on walking to let Gabriel know she was up for the challenge._

"_I'll get my coat," Virginia explained leaving the room._

_Cassie looked back at her best friend, "Feel better buddy," she said as she leaned down and kissed his forehead. She made a grand gesture of it, complete with an "mmmmmoah" sound. She skipped to the door and turned her head, "I'll see you after school."_

_

* * *

  
_

"That was the last time I saw her," Sylar said.

"No it's not," Claire corrected him, "You had to see her again, to kill her."

"It was the last time I saw her as the spunky, care-free pixie that was Cassie."

"But…"

"Virginia was so distraught about leaving me alone when I was ill," he told her cutting of her rebuttal, "Her paranoid mind had concocted numerous scenarios of what could happen to me while she was gone." He paused as he closed his eyes. Tears fell from his eyes and he quickly wiped them away. "By the time," he choked out. He took a deep breath, "By the time they got outside, Cassie had convinced Virginia she could walk herself and that Virginia needed to take care of _their _boy."

Claire bit back the small gasp of air in her throat when Sylar looked at her in the eye. The hurt and pain she found in his eyes had started to chip away the stone covering of her heart.

"She never made it to school that day," Sylar said quickly, like he was ripping off a band-aid. His anguish was evident in his tone. He used everything he had to hold himself together. Now was not the time for him to become that useless twelve year old boy. "She was abducted on the way to school and it was my fault!"

He was yelling and screaming. The way he jumped onto his feet quickly and waved his arms around him like he was swatting a swarm of bees; he might as well as stomped his feet to add to the effect of a small child in the middle of a temper tantrum. He ran a frustrated hand through his too long black locks as he started pacing. Claire's attention was averted from his aggravated--lion tramped in a cage--pacing to her thoughts. She couldn't even think of how he was able to elude his doting mother's watchful eye long enough to abduct Cassie. It just wasn't probable. The way Sylar spoke of Virginia Gray, she had to have an eagle on her son the entire day. His pacing was making her dizzy. She grabbed his hand and pulled his attention back to her.

"I don't see how you could have…"

"It was **my** responsibility to escort her to school!" He was seething from the onslaught of memories and Claire's refusal to see the truth. All of it was all unmistakably directed inward. "If **I** was there she never would have been taken. The fault lies with me! **My** actions that morning killed her!"

"You don't know that!"

"Yes…"

"NO!" she hollered back at him, "You don't know. You could have been easily taken too---or worse, killed. There are so many what if scenarios that could have happened…"

"I know what happened," his volume and intensity matched Claire's, "If I wasn't such an arrogant prick _trying_ to be somebody I wasn't, she wouldn't have been taken. She never would have endured that hell…that living nightmare. Most importantly, she'd still be alive today! This is **my** fault!" He slapped his chest hard to emphasize his beliefs that all the blame laid on his shoulders.

"When did they find her?" Claire asked very quietly as she hoped to calm him down.

"I looked for her for three long agonizing weeks," he recalled, "It was Wednesday morning at 6:55am when she knocked on my door."

"I thought she was dead," her surprised tone matched her facial expressions. She still had a firm grip on his hand. She gave him a gentle tug and he had let his body collapsed to the floor.

"She was dead. The girl knocking on my door was only a shell of the person she once was."

* * *

_Gabriel finished buttoning his coat when there was a knock on the door. He ran to it and swung it open. His breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of his broken and bruised best friend. "Cassie!" he shouted as he flung his arms around her and hugged her tightly._

_Cassie let out an ear piercing scream and pushed the boy away. She quickly backed away before she fell to the floor and curled into a ball. _

"_Cass, it's me Gabe," he used her nickname for him—the one he had despised. He slowly reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her body tensed with his touch and he pulled it away as if she burned him. He took a few steps back. "It's Gabe," he repeated. Gabriel laid on the floor approximately three feet from her before he mirrored her body language. _

"_Gabe?"_

"_It's me Cass," he whispered, "Is it okay if I move a foot closer?" Gabriel waited for her to process his request. When she gave her consent, he moved slowly and exactly one foot closer. The next sound Gabriel heard was something hitting the floor._

"_Cassandra!" Emmy shrieked. She ran over and hugged her daughter._

_Gabriel watched in horror as Cassie was screaming hysterically as she tried to pull away from her mother's tight embrace. _

_

* * *

  
_

Sylar covered his ears with his hands and squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to bury the sound of his best friend screaming bloody murder back deep into his subconscious. He felt tiny hands covered his own. His eyes opened to see Claire sitting on her knees between his long legs. She tugged at his hands and he gave in to her. Claire laced her fingers with his as she brought them to rest on his knees. Sylar could feel the tears welding in his eyes. _"God, why didn't Claire just want to know how to kill my wretched soul?"_

"I don't know what happened to her in those three weeks. And my over active imagination ran ragged with the 'what if?' scenarios." Sylar looked away when he felt the tears escape its invisible barrier. He tried to reach up to wipe his hands but found Claire's hold to be relentless. He lowered his head instead, as he hide behind the shield of his dark locks. She released his hands a few seconds later and wiped away his tears. He dropped his head in disgrace because she seen him like _this_…something he felt like he spent a lifetime running from.

"Sylar."

Her voice held compassion with no trace of pity. He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye. He noticed immediately her stray tears. Sylar moved slowly and carefully wiped her tears away with a gentle stroke of his thumb.

Claire's heartbeat increased with an unfamiliar emotion. Her grieving monster had touched her with such care as if she was made of porcelain to dry her tears. She reached up with her right hand and covered the hand still resting on her cheek. She could see her reflection in his sorrowful eyes. Sylar reached up with his free hand to brush away her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Claire didn't know how long they remained like this, but the hurt in his eyes was something she understood. These hurtful eyes would be seen on every one of her loved ones. Would what happened to her still cause them this much pain many years from now? Or was Sylar robbed the change to grieve and heal because he was a child trapped in playing the role of the parent? She never once thought of what her family would have to go through to heal. Guilt started to weigh down her heart as she thought how she had failed her family. She could not be their little girl anymore…not after what Danko did to her. She allowed herself to feel the sensation as his thumbs caressed her skin again, as it stole the moisture from her face.

He broke away from their moment when he turned away and pulled his hand away from her. He moved back until he hit the bed with his back. He was afraid. He was utterly and completely terrified of this five foot something blonde that appeared to understand his agony. But…he could see something else in her eyes…besides the thing he feared. He didn't think it was appropriate for her to hear the next part. "Are you sure you can handle this? We can stop now. I'll give you _anything_ else you want in return."

Claire noticed the difference in his tone. His request was not for himself, but for her. But she started this journey down the rabbit hole and she needed to know where it ended. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, before she nodded once. She opened her eyes and saw Sylar mimic her pervious actions.

He opened his eyes and looked at Claire. "Whatever happened to her," he slowly had begun; ready to stop at any signs of distress from Claire, "it broke her. It destroyed everything: her mind, body, and soul. Her entire being was just shattered into millions of pieces."

Claire sucked in a deep breath. This is something she didn't want to hear. She started to believe that Sylar didn't murder Cassie. If that was true, who killed her?

"She had nightmares every time she closed her eyes. Cass always woke up screaming and scratching away at an invisible assailant. She referred to whoever took her as the boogeyman—trust me the irony isn't lost on me."

Sylar broke eye contact and buried his face in his hands. He could not do this to Claire. This was not something she should be hearing.

"Sylar…" her voice trailed off when she heard him mumble something. "What…"

He dropped his hands and looked at Claire. "There were just too many pieces. How can you put that many tiny shards back together?"

She reached over and squeezed his hand because he needed to be comforted. It had not matter if _they_ felt he _deserved_ it or not. She held on tightly when he tried to pull away. "You were a boy Sylar," she whispered, "You shouldn't be responsible for that…"

"You don't get it Claire," he said harshly, "I wasn't lucky like you! I wasn't given to loving parents like Noah and Sandra Bennet. I was _sold _for quick cash. I was just useless rubbish that was lying around that…"

"That's not true!" It was a weak argument that even she didn't believe. Her hold on his hand weakened as he pulled away from her. Claire could see Sylar pull away, physically, emotionally, mentally, he withdrew. Walls of anger and resentment were quickly built around him.

"_I_ didn't get to be a carefree child. _I had_ to be the responsible one.**I** hadto tend to my mother. **I** **had** to fix everything that was broken. But that's where _**I failed**_…I couldn't fix her. I couldn't fix my mother. I couldn't fix anything!"

"Sylar…"

"I tried. I tried so hard." His voice cracked. "She lived in my room. I learned quickly the dos and don'ts of this new person in my life. I told her everything I was doing before following through with it down to the last detail. I moved so slow a snail would be considered a cheetah. I made some sort of non horrifying sounds to let her know where I was at all times because God help whoever surprised her." The defensive walls crumbled as quickly as he had built them.

"How did she die?" The question that was bothering her since he told her, God only knows how long ago.

"I killed her."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true."

"How did she die?"

"I told you," he insisted, "_**I**__**murdered her**_!"

"Then why don't you tell me how you did it and don't leave a single detail out." Her tone told him that she still had not believed him; which was ironic since he was a _serial_ killer. Claire could hear it in his cracking voice. He _loved_ her and probably still loves her. It was the tone he used that reminded her of Peter. When Peter failed to save someone that was in no way his fault; he still blamed himself.

"It was three months after we found her. It was night. I woke up cold…it was so cold…"

* * *

_Gabriel felt cold air wash over him. He pulled his blanket closer to his body then his hands sought out for his bedmate. When he hit cold sheets his eyes snapped open. His body was on full alert as he scanned the room. "Cassie," he whispered. He felt a gush of wind as his eyes went to his open window. He rushed to the window and his eyes widened to see Cassie had climbed onto the ledge of the fire escape. "CASSIE!" he whispered frantically as he crawled out the window, "What are you doing!"_

_Cassie was half way over the bar when she looked at her friend through hollow eyes. "I'm sorry Gabe," her voice was void of emotion, "I can't do this anymore."_

"_Don't," he pleaded when his brain caught up with the severity of the situation. He fell onto the fire escape and scrambled to get back onto his feet._

"_I'm tired Gabe….I can't do this anymore—I've tried to run from the boogeyman, but I'm exhausted." _

"_Cassie…"_

"_I've succumb to my fate." She leaned back and gave her body to the pull of gravity._

"_NO!" Gabriel screamed. He reached out and by the grace of some higher power he had grabbed a hold of her hand. Her momentum threw him forward as he slammed into the ledge. Gabriel let out a small cry of pain as the impact fractured a few of his ribs. "Mother help!" Gabriel hollered for his mother. _

"_Let me go!" she hissed, "I don't belong here."_

"_I'm not going to let go," he said with painful breaths. He reached over and grabbed her with both hands. With her free hand Cassie clawed and scratched at him, trying to free herself from his ironclad hold. "Mother I need you!"_

"_Gabe you have to let me go."_

"_Never…going…to...happen." _

"_I'm damaged goods."_

"_That's not true." His voice was pleading with her._

"_My own mother can't stand to look at me or even be in the same room. I don't belong here or to anyone."_

"_You belong to me."_

"_Not anymore. I…I can't outrun the boogeyman. I can't…"_

"_I'm not giving up on you," he choked out. Breathing was becoming very difficult for him. He felt his shoulders screaming in pain from the strain he put on them. She was slipping from his hold. "I'll fight him for you. You have to help me pull you up…"_

"_Let me go!" she screamed at him as she dug her nails into his inner wrist. His wrist was bleed as she dug into his tendon. His fingers flared open, releasing his hold as it responded naturally to her assault. He only had his right hand holding onto her hand. She twisted and moved it trying to free herself as her other hand went to assault his hand._

"_I won't let you go…I won't…we're suppose to grow old together remember. Be the two crazy old people on the block that throws things at the socially undesirable people…"_

"_Good bye Gabriel," she whispered as she twisted her hand free. _

"_NO!" Gabriel reached out with his left hand to grab her but met air. His ears were ringing with the sounds of her screaming. His eyes were glued to her descent as her head hit the fire escape, breaking her neck before she fell two more flights. Gabriel heard the sound of her body when it made contact with the ground. He was frozen in place with his hand stretched forward into the air. Nothing could drown out her screaming. This is how Virginia Gray found her beloved son, trapped in his cationic state staring at his best friend's body._

"_Gabriel," she shrieked as she pulled her son tightly in her embrace, "What happened?"_

"_I killed her," he whispered into the air as he stared at Cassie's lifeless form._

_

* * *

  
_

Claire stared at Sylar. He pulled his knees to his body and buried his head in his arms. "Sylar..."

His head snapped up and his eyes narrowed at her. "Don't you dare!" He commanded her. He could already hear her words running through his mind.

"It's the truth. You. Did. Not. Kill. Her." She emphasized each word in her sentence as she looked in his eyes.

"I know the truth." He broke eye contact with her and looked to his left.

"No, you're blaming yourself for something that wasn't your responsibility or your fault!" She never wanted to slap someone back into reality more than she did in this moment.

"It was…."

"**Not** your fault!" she raised her voice over his, blocked out his rebuttal. She grabbed his head and forced him to look at her. She held his face in her hands and stared him down. "So stop beating yourself up for something that was entirely out of your control!"

"Tell that to her mother who beat the shit out of me for dropping her little girl! Tell that to my mother who let her! Tell that to that pathetic wimpy ass little boy who wasn't strong enough to pull up the _only_ person in this God forsaken hell hole that he cared about and didn't treat him like a colossal waste of space!"

"If anyone is responsible it would be Cassie's cracked up, drug addicted mother!" Claire yelled at Sylar. There was no question in her mind that she hated what he did to her. But she would not, could not let him carry the responsibility of this…after everything Danko put her through she would be confident in her assessment that Cassie would not blame Sylar for this.

"You don't understand…" he pulled his face from her grasp. He tried to pull himself onto the bed but Claire slapped her hands down on his knees and put her weigh down, holding him in place. He wasn't going to runaway from her. Not now, when she was so close to his humanity and the truth.

"Maybe six weeks ago that statement would be true, but not anymore. You don't get to tell me that I don't understand. Not after everything Danko subjected me to."

Clarity hit him like a freight train. She wasn't defending his actions or persecuting him either. She was looking at it through a different sent of eyes…as someone who was terrorized and damaged by another a spiteful person. Claire was the soul survivor of his rein of terror in this world and here she was telling him this…but it still was too much for him to take in. "Are you sure?" He could not believe the truth, despite his internal lie detector that pointed to truth. "I couldn't stop Danko from taking you…what makes you so sure?"

"What?" She felt like the air was knocked out of her system. Sylar was adamant that he wasn't working with Danko and now he just confessed to helping Danko?

"After Cassie, I didn't have anything but the insane world I was drowning in before I met her. I kept reliving her final days in my head, wishing I was special. Because if I was special; I could have saved her." He scoffed at his admission. "Stupid huh?" He shook his head and looked at Claire. "The elder Dr. Suresh came to my shop many years later with the promise that I might be special. And I went crazy trying to be special, so I would never be **that** vulnerable again. I started collecting abilities. I took anything that would make me stronger, fiercer, a force to reckon with."

"You succeeded."

"I know." His voice was small again. "Elle told me that before I killed the treacherous bitch." He noticed her scowl right away. "You'd be pissed too if you found out the person you were sleeping with was trying to use you like a puppet _and_ helped you on the road of being a killer when her and _your_ father could have taught me to control the hunger…to understand abilities _without _slicing and dicing." He was quick to defend himself. Until his last dying breath, he would defend that killing. "Wouldn't you be irate with the little strumpet? Especially after she taught me to understand her ability without carving her head open in the process!"

"He did what!" Claire could not help but wonder what the world would have been like if her father had helped Sylar before he turned into…well Sylar. But she could not imagine the world because this reality took too much energy and thought to understand.

"Does it really matter?" His rhetorical question was left in the air for a few seconds before he changed the topic. "I was trapped in the glided cage he put me in. I was Nathan Petrelli and I could not stop what happened to you. That is how I failed _you_."

"I don't understand."

"It was my ability that painted the future," Sylar told her, "I drew you being abducted. It woke that part of me inside of the Nathan façade. But Nathan thought someone had left it for him. Nathan was useless because he didn't have my intuition or deductive reasoning to see things that others can't see."

"No…"

"Every time I made it to the surface, your father had Parkman put me back into his subconscious."

"No!"

"Think about it Claire, before Danko took you. Didn't you notice his outlandish actions and behaviors towards you?"

"He was overbearing and….oh my God." This information was crushing her. Her beloved father and intervened twice in Sylar's life and both times the end result had cost her dearly. If he had shown Sylar how to control the hunger, his victims would still be alive and she never would have….no, she couldn't go there. She couldn't think of what today would have been like if Sylar was in control of Nathan's body the day she was abducted…would Danko still have gotten her? Would it have taken this long to find her?"

"How long?"

"Huh?"

"How long was I gone?"

_Gone_. _You weren't exactly on vacation Claire._ He bit back his sarcastic remark. This wasn't the time to be his old cynical self. "Six weeks, three days, twelve hours, and thirty-seven minutes." _How long did it feel like to you Claire bear?_

She should not be surprised that someone as obsessive compulsive as Sylar had it down to the minute, actually she was surprised that it had not been to the second. She inhaled deeply as she debated whether or not she really wanted to know this piece of information. "How long did it take _you_ to find me?"

He knew what she was **really** asking him: How long did it take him when he was no longer imprisoned in her bio dad's body? Why you and not Bennet? "Twelve hours and twenty-nine minutes. I don't know the seconds but I could give you a rough approximation…"

"There's no need…"

"It should have been nine hours and some odd minutes, but my head was still screwed up from Parkman's control that it made me emotional and I took the bait that sent me in a different direction. I'm sorry for that."

She _really_ had not wanted to know that piece of information _that_ shattered her soul. Twelve hours after Danko took her, her body had not been violated yet. Satan's reject would not had been able to harm her yet as he fled from New York. She would not have been cut open repeatedly, her organs taken from her, she would not have been buried alive, almost burned, almost dinner for a pack of coyotes, beaten or broken. _Dear sweet Jesus…I wouldn't have been repeatedly raped and violated by whatever scum of the earth he found_. Claire had not realized she was crying until she felt his fingers tenderly brush away the tears. Green met brown desolate eyes.

If there was ever a moment when someone looked back at in their life and say 'that's when everything changed,' it would be that moment for Claire…but she had not realized it at the time. The stone walls she built to protect herself from this man started to crumble around her. She still hated what he had done to her, but she did not hate _him_ anymore. Claire had not known what to think or feel about this man but she knew she didn't despise him.

"This is how I failed you. I couldn't escape my confinement quick enough….I understand why you can't trust me or want to have any faith in me. So that's why I'm doing this…"

"Sy…"

"You're free to go." The motel door flung open with his statement.

"What?" Her eyebrows creased as she looked at the door.

"You don't trust me. I frighten you. You think I am keeping you prisoner so I am giving you your freedom."

"But Danko…"

"I will follow you until you're home safe. When my dog is watching you, I will go after Danko. I will make that piece of **shit** beg for death and repeatedly deny his request. He will feel _our _wrath Claire that I promise you that. But I don't want you to think of yourself as my prisoner. You're not. You never were. This was never about me or what I could gain by taking you from Danko. This was about you…it's always been about you. And from what I do _know_ that happened, you deserve more than a traveling companion you're horrified of and can't trust with your safety."

"Sylar…"

"You'll be safe." He took off his jacket and put it on her shoulders. He reached into his pocket and pulled out all of his money. "This will keep you warm and I will keep the baddies away. Go now." He put the money inside the jacket pocket.

Claire numbly stood up and felt him gently push her in the direction of the door. She reached the door and turned back to Sylar. He had resumed his position on the floor. His head buried in his arms that were draped over his knees. She could see his bare back raising and falling…was he crying? Claire had not known what to think or feel. What he told her had shaken her world and challenged all her beliefs. Claire had known her father was a good man who did bad things for what _he_ believed was for the greater good or to protect his family. Did he even think about what the consequences of his actions were at the time? That by pushing Sylar to be a monster, that it would put his daughter's life endanger?

Claire looked away from Sylar and at the open door. All she saw was darkness. The world was sleeping again as the darkness stretched over the horizon. Sylar was certain her freedom was outside that door and away from him; but so were Danko and anyone else that would bring her harm. She looked back at a man she saw in a different light now. She was given a glimpse of the wayward soul beneath the villain. Claire looked back and forth from Sylar to the outside world as her brain processed all the information. She made her decision and she was confident it was the right one. She chose the freedom that made the most sense to her.

Sylar heard the door close. It didn't surprise him. He had known she would choose the option that put distance between them. He wiped his face. He did not have time to wallow in self pity. Claire needed him whether she would admit it or not. "Now is not the time to be that pathetic boy," he told himself, "Man up…you have a job to do." Sylar put his hands on the floor and pushed himself up when he felt resistance. He looked up and saw _her_. His mouth must have been open because he felt her hand under his chin. She lifted her hand to close his mouth. "Claire…"

"Shush," she told him as she sat across from him, "It's my turn to take care of you."

His brow creased as she grabbed his hands and pulled him towards her. She guided his head to rest in the crook of her neck as she rested her cheek on his head. She wrapped her arms around him. She caressed his bare back with one hand and combed a soothing hand through his hand. "It's okay Sylar," she put a chaste kiss on the top of his head, similar to what he did for her earlier that day, "It's okay to grieve now. Cassie wouldn't want you to carry this guilt around with you for the rest of your life." She combed the hair from his face and felt his shirt damp with his silent tears. "It's okay….I've got you…I'm not going anywhere…I promise."


	9. Sojourners' Journey

AN: I apologize for the delay. I submitted it to my beta 2 months ago for editing but she's been busying. I tried to find someone else to edit it but came up short. In translation, be warned. This chapter will contain grammar and spelling errors. I tried my best to catch as many as I could. So I'm asking for some grace on this chapter and if you know anyone who might want to edit my next chapter. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 9 Sojourners' Journey**

Sylar stirred in his sleep. He was cocooned in unfamiliar warmth and heavenly fragrance-vanilla and something else his mind couldn't place but he knew that scent from somewhere…if only he could remember. He grumbled as he buried his face into his pillow and immediately noticed its strange texture. This intoxicating scent coming from the pillow reminded him of aroma that he associates with Claire. Brown eyes snapped open and made contact with the flesh of Claire's neck and his t-shirt. Her arms tighten its hold around him as she pulled him closer to her. It was that movement when his brain registered the weight on her head resting on his. _"I __**have**__ to be dreaming."_ It was the only thing that made sense of this intimate embrace between them…was that her tiny fingers combing through his hair? Sylar slowly pulled his head back to confirm with his eyes what his brain had already concluded to be true. He was in Claire Bennet's tight embrace.

"Hey there sleepy head; welcome back to the land of the living," she whispered to him as he gave him a warm petite smile.

He moved his hand slowly as it approached her face. Claire's head titled to the side and her brows creased as she tried to understand what he was doing. His hand made contact with her face and he pulled it back instantly.

"What are you…" her sentence trailed off when she saw him pitch himself…._hard_.

"Fuck!" he mumbled as his eyes widened even more than before. He was in bed with Claire. _He_ was _in bed_ with _Claire_! He muttered a few more curses before looking at her…was she amused by this? "I'm sorry," he spoke quickly, "I didn't mean to…" he pulled away from her so fast that he almost fell off the bed. He caught himself by the end table and head board. He pulled his body back onto the bed and stayed far from her as possible.

"It's okay." She reached out and placed her small hand on his forearm; hoping this would bring some form of comfort to his erratic behavior. _"Is this what I looked like to him yesterday when I woke up?"_

"How is _this_ okay?" He nearly squealed as he gestured wildly between them with his hand. He was truly horrified at his actions towards her. "I practically mauled you in my sleep!"

"Don't be ridiculous," she dismissed him immediately. "I'm the one that put you there."

"You what!" He exclaimed. This had to be a dream. This _cannot _be reality. This isn't Claire. _"What the hell happened last night?"_ He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Don't you remember?" She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at this comical sight.

Sylar sorted through his memories of last night, the vulnerability he never wanted to experience again in his lifetime. He wished he could forget it ever happened. Sylar remembered practically pushing Claire out the door as he was angry with himself and the situation. Mostly, he didn't want to hear her continue to tell herself how he had taken her hostage…how he _hijacked_ her from Danko for his own greedy desires. He gave her the choice to leave and she chose to stay with him. That has to mean something…right? She stayed with him, comforted him as he finally grieved his only friend's death. _She_ pulled him in bed with her, tucked them both in, and then she wrapped _her_ arms around him as she pulled _him _securely to _her_ body. In what had to be the most ironic role reversals known to man, _she_ shielded him from _his_ demons. "Oh" was all he could say to the awkward white elephant stared him in the face. _How do they get past this?_

"It's okay."

"I…" he trailed off, trying to form his thoughts, "I….I'd rather not rehash last night…"

"But?"

"No buts, just a heart felt plead for your benevolence." He paused as he tried to think of how to phrase it without sounding like a complete imbecile.

_Benevolence. _The word reminded her of that different side of Sylar she kept seeing. It was Gabriel. For the past forty-eight hours she felt like she was in the presence of two individuals and she was; Sylar and Gabriel were tending to her needs. Sylar protected her while Gabriel comforted her. Claire started seeing him as two halves of a whole or two sides to a coin. She felt like she truly saw all of him for the first time. Sylar was sarcastic, egoistical, self serving bastard…but he's also strong and deep. The way he sees things are terrifying at times, but the other times, it drew her in with a strong desire to know how his unique brain works. The most surprising discovery was how Sylar protects those he holds dear to his heart. Last night she saw his heart, a very loyal heart. The way he is with her, she knew that her name was etched somewhere on the walls of his heart-she'd bet her life on it. In wake of this nightmare Danko created, she drew comfort in Sylar. Nothing would ever harm her again…well at least physically as long as Sylar was breathing. Gabriel on the other hand; was analytical and relied on facts and truth…he was a gentle and tortured soul. His heart, the very essence of him was very fragile. Gabriel's self esteem had to be nonexistence and with Sylar's ridged refusal to speak of Virginia Gray…Claire could only assume she was responsible for Gabriel's delicate psyche.

Sylar is who Gabriel created so he would never have to feel as helpless as he did when only friend was kidnapped, tortured in some unforeseen way, and later killed herself because she saw it as her only way out of the madness that consumed her. Sylar's purpose was to protect Gabriel from ever experiencing that pain again. And it all crumbled down when she was taken by Danko. It was no secret of Sylar's intentions towards her. When Danko took her,

Gabriel was once again that helpless twelve year old boy as he was held prisoner in her biological father's form as Sylar tried desperately to claw his way to the surface.

Sylar did not notice the far off look on her face. After a few minutes, his hazy mind couldn't think of anything to convey his request without it sounding weak and needy or threatening so he just blurted out, "Please don't tell anyone."

His voice pulled her away from her revelation of the different facets of the once nemesis to this paradox before her. "What?" Not completing understanding his request. Why she couldn't she tell anyone that he was human after all? Why was she the only one who saw this as a potentially good thing for him…her monster has a heart _and _it works.

"It's not taking a giant leap of faith to presume I rank high on your father's priority list as _kill Sylar…permanently_ and rightly so for all the havoc I reeked." He looked down as he sucked in a deep breath. "But I don't want him to use her to get to me."

"Sylar…" she whispered her voice as laced with empathy for him. For as much as she hated what he did to her; he was hurting and lashing out at the world that continuously failed him. The preverbal icing on this messed up cake was how he hauled around the baggage of someone else's mistakes and carried them as his own. And it wasn't as if he lacking his own baggage…his came as a matching set.

"I know I never asked you to keep it a secret and I _won't_ stop you if you want to scream it to the world….but I don't want him to use her as some sort of leverage in his crusade against me. I..." He breathed in again; his only desire was to get this over with so he can bury deep everything inside himself. "Haven't I…"

Claire cringed inside. He still blamed himself for Cassie's abduction and death. She was determined to make him see that he wasn't to blame for any of that tragedy. "You're not to bl…"

"Haven't _I_ done enough to her Claire?" He didn't want her pity…he deserved to suffer every moment of his existence for what he did to Cassie, "Doesn't she deserve to rest in peace without her good name being dragged through the sludge to serve another man's agenda?"

"Locked away forever, I promise." She put her hand over her heart to seal her promise. Cassie's story affected Claire in a way she never thought it would. She could put herself into the teenager's shoes better than Sylar or Gabriel. Claire would never say anything because that is what she would want someone to do for her….someone like Sylar who knew bits and pieces of what happened to her. _"Oh God, what if Sylar tells my parents? They can't know, it would destroy them!"_

"Claire," he waited for her to look at him. He wanted to let her know how serious he was about maintaining her privacy. When blue met brown, he continued, "It's not my story to tell. Locked away forever, I promise." He mimicked her earlier gesture as he put his hand on his chest.

"Thank you."

"Okay, that enough of this depressing shit. The past stays in the past…"

"Sylar…"

"Well, at least _my_ past. I'm all about the _here and now_ baby. And my here and now is all about you." He ended his statement by playfully tapping her nose with his finger and smiled when she swatted his hand away from her face.

"Me?" she raised a questioning eyebrow and an amused smile at his eccentric and sporadic behavior. She saw as Sylar pushing his past back into his subconscious to shield his other half from the heartache of _their_ confession.

"Yes you. And our first order of the day is to check out those injuries then breakfast." He climbed out of bed and held out a hand to assist her. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting stir crazy in this shithole."

Claire rolled her eyes at his attempt at chivalry but decided to humor him. When her hand slid into his larger hand he pulled her out of bed and walked her to the bathroom. She never saw this side of him before and couldn't help but wonder if her father had taught him to use his ability without killing…would this be the Sylar the world would have known instead of walking terror is does now?

Sylar didn't wait for her to try and get onto the counter. "I'm grabbing your waist and lifting you up on the counter."

Claire felt his hands on her and her body tensed but relaxed within a few seconds. As painful as it was to admit this to herself, he was right. She wanted to know ahead of time if he was going to touch her…to give her the chance to scream 'G_et your filthy hands off of me'_ if needed. His actions towards her were feeling more natural now, than awkwardness it was the day before. _"Strange how quickly your prospective of someone can alter."_ His hands were combing her hair away from her cut.

"It healed itself," Sylar told her. He looked down and grinned at her. "Shirt." He ordered and he gestured with his hand for her to lift it up. "Remarkable."

"What?"

"That fugly ass bruise from yesterday is just a small light yellowish discoloring," he smiled at her again, "hopefully in a few hours it will be just a memory. I'm going to put pressure on the bruise, let me know if it hurts." He waited until she nodded before his hands moved towards her. He gently touched her and waited for a reaction. When nothing happened, he added more pressure and moved his hands around. "Nothing?"

"No pain." Claire grinned. She was closer to having the full use of her ability back which meant she was one step closer to her home with her mother. What she didn't except was a part of her that would miss Sylar. He is what has been keeping her sane and safe these last forty-eight hours. Worry about the future clouded her mind…especially a future without Sylar in it. She got too comfortable with him; she would have to stop that because he was a passing ship in her life…not to be confused with a permanent fixture. Right?

"You can pull your shirt down," he told her as he tried hard not to listen to her thoughts that were practically screaming at him. He didn't know the answers to her questions either or what their…is this a relationship? Whatever this new dynamic they were caught in was called. So he continued to do the only thing he knew how to do…take care of Claire. "I'm going to lift up your sleeve and check out the bite." Sylar carefully rolled up her sleeve and unwrapped her bandage.

Claire looked over at him and noticed his big goofy grin. "Is it healed?"

"Huh?" he said as he looked at her. He shook his head, "Oh God no. Not even close."

"Then what's with the cat-ate-the-canary grin?"

"Your muscle is knitting itself back together, I can't see bone anymore," he told her as he put more peroxide on her wound. "It's just missing the skin and the bicep."

"Wait-you can't see my…. just how bad was it?" She was worried. Sylar never told her how badly she was damaged. He just tended her medical needs and gave her vague answers.

"Did you want to shower?" He asked, only confirming her suspicions that he is avoiding the topic. He finished bandaging her wound and injected her with another dosage of his blood.

"Stop dodging the question."

Sylar looked at her with a face of indifference before inhaling deeply. "Put it this way, if it wasn't for your ability….probably would have lost your arm...correction; the loss of blood would have killed you."

Her eyes widened, "But…"

"Shower?"

"No, but…"

"Then get out so I can shower," he looked at his with a mischievous smile, "Unless you have this strong desire to see me naked…I'd be happy to oblige…" He brought his hands to his zipper and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"PIG!" she slapped his chest. She watched as he threw his head back and let out a hearty chuckle. Claire has never seen him so relaxed and carefree. He stopped laughing when he noticed her staring.

"What?"

Claire didn't think he would appreciate her observation, so she took a page out of his book and changed the subject completely. "Help me down perv, I don't feel like being traumatized today."

"Yes Dear."

She threw out her arms and tried not to tense up when she felt his hands on her waist. Her body was dangerously close to his. She looked up at Sylar and could feel her heartbeat in her throat as her breathing stopped for a second.

After a few moments, Sylar let her go and step back when the tension became too much. He broke eye contact with her and looked at himself in the mirror. "Just so you know, this me doting on you, will get old _really_ fast."

"So what you're saying is…that I should get use to it." She winked at him before walking out of the bathroom. Just kicks, she had a slight sway to her hips.

Sylar looked up at the ceiling, willing himself not to look at Claire's ass as she walked away. "Oh God help me."

* * *

_Coyote Sands_

"I found blood!" Peter yelled, "A lot of blood!"

"There's some over here too!" Matt yelled, "It's making a trail and stops right here." Matt could see the faint tire tracks lead away from the sight. "I think whoever this was left in a car. I can see tracks."

"This blood trail ends here," Peter observed. "It was like they disappeared. There are no tracks or anything."

Matt looked at the two tracks. The only thing that connected them was another set of large foot prints that appeared by the bloody mess by Peter but did not follow the set with the car. _"This must be Claire's then; Sylar would have picked her up and flew away. Danko must have gotten away in the vehicle. Why did Sylar leave him alive? Claire would have healed herself…so what was the hurry?"_

"So they are both injured," Noah concluded, "We need to check the hospital."

"Danko wouldn't go to the hospital." Matt supplied as he tried to piece together what happened in his mind.

"You're right Parkman," Noah conceded. "We need to check the animal hospital and veterinary clinics. Danko would want medication and equipment to treat these injuries."

"Let's get moving," Peter said as him and Matt went to the car.

"Noah," Angela said stopping him, "I dreamt this..."

"Now it's not the time, this is the most we got in weeks…"

"Sylar's back."

"Excuse me?" Noah wasn't sure he heard her correctly. "Did you just say Sylar was back?"

"I saw this place in my dreams. Sylar injured Danko."

"Then who has Claire?"

"I don't know. In my dream I saw Sylar slicing Danko's abdomen. I didn't see Claire."

"So that might not have happened yet."

Angela looked at Noah and turned her head to the evidence that supports her dream had already came true.

"Shit, now we have two deranged and dangerous men out there and we don't know who has Claire."

"We'd have to assume Sylar," Angela concluded, "Danko wouldn't survive an attack from Sylar."

"And that bastard injured Claire, that's the only way she would have went with him."

"Possibility."

"We need to expand the search to the hospitals," Noah instructed her, "If Sylar has her, that cocky bastard would waltz into the hospital to get her any medical attention she needed because he could control the whole damn place."

"That's assuming Claire's ability isn't working." Angela felt empathy for the distressed father in front of her. Any other case, any other time, he'd be the best agent for the job. With Claire, he seemed to be making rookie mistakes more often. _"Emotions can make the smartest man stupid. Let's just hope Peter is more level headed than her father."_

"We have to look at it at all angles." He tried to cover up his slip up. With the possible threat of Sylar, his Claire bear needed him at the top of his game.

Matt was in the car concentrating on Angela and Noah's thoughts. Sylar was discovered. The batty old woman's dreams finally revealed his presence.

"Matt," Peter said, "What are you staring at?"

"I'm just waiting for your mother to slap Bennet." Matt pulled out his mobile phone and sent a quick text to Sylar; grateful that at least Sylar gave him a number to reach him in case of emergencies.

Peter just smiled in agreement as he waited as well.

* * *

_Lake Havasu City, AZ_

Sylar frowned into his mobile phone as he stood outside the ladies' room at the local diner, per Claire's request.

_They know you're alive and assume you have Claire. Angela dreamed what your attack on Danko at Coyote Sands._

"What'cha doing?"

Sylar visibly flinched at her poor verbal skills, complete with the little Southern drawl. "What'cha is not a word Claire. It's a piss poor use of the English language." He closed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket as he turned to see Claire standing next to him. _"Where the hell did she come from?"_ He was disturbed that he didn't hear her coming.

"So what'cha saying is...that it's a word." She shrugged. "So I repeat, so _what'cha_ doing?"

Sylar cringed at her blatant misuse of the English language but also noticed the teasing glint in her eye and mischievous thoughts. He decided to play along with her in hopes that she would stay in her playful mood. "I'm waiting for someone to depart from the ladies' lavatory." He explained with a sly grin.

"A lady perhaps?"

"I sure hope so or else _he _has _a lot_ of explaining to do."

"Anyone I know?"

"Not sure. She's an exasperating little blonde about your stature…" he held out his hand to show the woman in question's height, "…_very_ clingy. She can't even manage to use the facilities without me standing guard that the door."

"That has to be annoying."

"Tell me about me." He let out a long sigh as he rolled his eyes.

"Well, if you ever want to ditch the clingy one for someone a little less needy," she playfully put her hand on his chest before lowering her voice, "Just let me know."

"I don't know…" he paused for effect and with an impish grin he continued, "…I'm a little fond of to her…not sure if I am willing to part ways with her just yet."

"You're loss." She responded flippantly as she tossed her hair back.

"My gain," he said to correct the little vixen.

They both started laughing unable to keep up the façade any longer. Sylar couldn't help but hope that Claire was doing as well as she portrayed herself.

"We should go. You know big day ahead..."

"We didn't eat yet." He didn't show the disappointment he felt as the light mood was gone as quickly as it came.

"Sure we did…."

"My stomach disagrees with you." He looked at her hand and back at her. Claire nodded her consent before he grabbed her hand and pulled her to a booth in the back. He directed her to sit on the side where in view of the door as he sat next to her.

"There's another seat over there." She pointed with her finger to emphasize her statement.

"Yup." He grabbed the menus and gave her one.

"No one's sitting there."

"I know." His eyes scanned the menu. "What looks good?"

"I'm not hungry."

"What are you going to order?"

"I told you I'm not hungry."

"The pancakes sound good don't they?" He looked at her briefly before turning back to the menu. "I remember you disclosing to me yesterday that you loved them."

"You're not going to acknowledge the fact that I'm not hungry, are you?"

He looked away from the menu and gave Claire his undivided attention for his next statement. He leaned in closer to her and rested his elbow on the table. "I think the inhabitants of hell would have a better chance of acquiring a glass of ice water than you departing from this table without partaking in the morning ritual known as breakfast." His tone implied that it was not up for discussion and if needed, he would force feed her every bite. Sylar added in a lighter tone, "Besides, isn't there a cliché that states breakfast is the most important meal of the day?" He winked at her before pulled away and turned his attention back to the menu.

"A simple no would have sufficed."

"But where's the fun in that?" He looked he gave her could only be described as 'wide eye shocked.'

"You're ridiculous."

"You should really focus on the bright side" He set his menu down and looked at her.

"And that would be?"

"I eat with my left hand so we won't be bumping elbows." He raised his left hand to emphasize his point as he bumped his right elbow against hers.

"I'm ecstatic to know that particular piece of information." She deadpanned. Although, if she even processed what he stated, she would have realized they wouldn't have had that problem if he was right handed like herself. "I really can't contain my excitement with that knowledge."

"Good to know." He gave her a crooked grin as she glared at him. "You know, you can read the menu better if you actually open it up."

"Really?" she asked mockingly, "I didn't know that! What would I do without you?"

"I really don't know," he pretended like he was pondering her question, "I'm just surprised I didn't have to dress you this morning."

"Well if we were to get technical," she lowered her voice, "I am wearing your clothes."

Sylar looked at her and realized what she was doing…she was trying to divert his attention from breakfast. Much to his astonishment, the little pixie almost got away with it too! He picked up his menu again and skimmed over it. "I'm advising you to start examining the menu or I'm going to order for you….and I promise you it will be disgusting and I will make sure you eat every last bite." He threatened her as she immediately opens her menu. After a few minutes his attention was diverted back to her when he felt her tense up. A young man with dirty blonde hair sticking out everywhere was coming to take their order. The waiter's attention was averted from them when another customer grabbed his attention. The boy seemed harmless enough as he continued his journey to their table.

"_Holy fuck! She's hot! I'd love to do nasty things to that little blonde. Please God, let that be her brother or uncle."_

Sylar narrowed his eyes at the young man as he put his arm around Claire and pulled her next to his body. He further marked his territory with the young man when he placed a kiss the crown of her head.

"_Why are all the hot ones have creepy old boyfriends? He probably can't satisfy her!"_ the young waiter pondered before pulling out his pad of paper and pen from his apron. "Good morning, my name is Tommy. Would you like to hear our specials?"

"No need," Sylar dismissed the little creep quickly as the desire to kill him grew with each dirty visual the little bastard had doing ungodly things to Claire's body, "My girl here" he ignored Claire's pointed look, "would like your chocolate chip pancakes with…" he turned toward Claire, "Are you in the mood for coffee or OJ this morning baby?"

"Coffee…it's definitely a coffee morning _honey_."

"And I'll have the veggie omelet with wheat toast and coffee as well." When he noticed the Tommy looking at Claire and her burying herself deeper to his body, completely uncomfortable with the waiter's lustful gaze, he added, "You got that or do you need to repeat it because you're too busy ogling my wife here to actually write down the damn order." His tone was light, but the death glare he gave Tommy told him to back off now.

"I got it," Tommy stuttered out.

"Good." Sylar watched him leave before drawing his attention back to the blonde who has successfully buried her face into the side of his body. "Are you okay?" She mumbled into his side. "I'm sorry I don't speak gibberish."

She pulled away and looked up into his concerned brown eyes, "No."

"Want me to get it to go?"

"No," she told him, "I don't want him to win." Sylar titled his head to the side and looked confused. "He's a creepy little pervert and by leaving he wins. Besides, I'm looking forward to seeing him try and kiss your ass to recover a good tip." She gave him a small smile that did not reach her eyes.

He grinned back at her with a mischievous glint in his eye, "That could be fun."

After a few seconds of silence, Claire looked at her companion and whispered, "Thank you."

"There is no need to thank me for liberating you from that horny little bastard's…"

"Not that." She interrupted him.

"Then for what?"

"I get it now."

"Get what?" His massive eyebrows knitted together in the confusion. Her thoughts were all over the place and he couldn't figure out what she meant.

"Why you're sitting next to me. Why you walked a half a step in front of me with your body partially in front of me and my hand either tucked securely on your arm or in your hand. Why last night, even when you were unconscious you were fighting with me…"

"Claire…" He pulled away from her to look at her fully.

"…to be on the one of the right side of the bed because that side was closet to the door." She wouldn't let him interrupt her.

"I'm not following…"

"You're protecting me." She finished. "Whatever evil thing that wants to hurt me, has to go through you first. You're blocking their path to me. Here with the creepy pervert. The room if someone actually broke the door or window. Or when we were walking into this establish. You wanted me close enough to pull behind you if something happened….you're making yourself as a barrier to me…like you're my self appointed protector."

"Claire…" he trailed off, as she called him out on something he didn't realize he was doing at the time.

"And I'm okay with it."

He sat in silence for a few moments to process everything she had said. None of it made sense. It all lacked logic. "But I'm a monster…"

"That might be true…" he raised his eyebrows at her, "Okay, that_ is_ true. You may still be a monster, my monster but I feel safe with you. I don't want to ever let go this security or the knowledge that you won't let anything hurt me. It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

"I won't." He told her with conviction.

"I think I'm starting to understand what you were saying in the hotel room" Sylar is completely lost as her thoughts keep jumping and he can't keep up with her. "You were thinking long term and I couldn't see past the here and now. When you see the future, you imagine the two of us. Because hundreds of years from now when my family and people I love have long since gone…we will remain. We will know each other from practically the beginning of our time here on Earth. You see us as each other's cornerstones to the past and the future. When Danko threatened me, he threatened you by approximation because he was messing with that picture in your head." Sylar looked away as what she was saying clicked in his mind. "It's that image in your head that is what made you came after me isn't it? You seem me as yours? And you protect what is yours."

Sylar turned his head completely away from her to hide from her intense gaze. He couldn't dignify that with a response…no matter how much truth was in that statement. He felt her tiny hand on his rough face as she guided his face back to hers.

"It's okay. I know that two months ago, it wouldn't have been okay." She looked into his eyes and saw regret and something else she couldn't name. But that indescribable feeling confirmed that she was right. "But that was two months ago and today is today. And I'm all about the here and now too," she quote him from early, "I know that I'm here today because of you and you alone. If it wasn't for you…I….I'd be…" she trailed off as neither one of them wanted to finish the sentence. She slid her hand down his face and with complete sincerity she said, "I need you to know that I'm okay with it. I'm more than _okay_ with it."

It clicked in his mind what she was telling him. There old relationship dynamic was thrown out the window in the moments he rescued her from Danko and told her about his cherished friend. "We're building bridges aren't we?"

"Yeah."

They sat in silence as they both felt the tension of the moment surrounded them. This was just too deep and too serious of a conversation to have before a man had his coffee. In a lame attempt to break the tension Sylar looked at Claire and asked, "Answer me this one thing?"

"What?"

"I thought cheerleaders were supposed to be dumb, so where the hell did you pull that from?"

"Shut up!" she scolded him as she elbowed him in the stomach. She smiled triumph when he made a grunting noise of pain. She felt him pull her closer to him and rested his head on top of hers. They sat there soaking in the realizations they just had and wondered where do they go from here?

* * *

_Public Library, Phoenix, AZ_

"Got it," Matt exclaimed to his colleagues.

"You know where Danko is?" Peter asked.

"Possibility," Matt told them, "Two days ago a man was found in his car with severe abdominal lesions. He was unconscious from the amount of blood loss."

"Where is he?" Noah asked as he walked over to them.

"John Doe was taken to Wickenburg Community Hospital were he was treated"

"No doubt the bastard is still alive." Noah stated.

"He survived surgery but is in a coma."

"How far away are we?"

Matt went to MapQuest and pulled in the distance. "A little over an hour."

"Let's go pull the bastard's plug." Noah instructed as he left the library with Angela and Peter on his heels. Matt wrote down the directions before logging off the computer. He sent a text to his partner in crime while caught up to the others.

* * *

_Somewhere over Arizona_

Sylar was holding Claire tightly to his body as they flew to her mother's house. They had a slight argument and how they would arrive at Sandra's home. Both agreed that flying would be the quickest option. Sylar was hesitant to do so as he felt Claire would be more comfortable in a car next to him, then clinging to his body. Claire won the discussion when she looked at him with tears threatening to fall as she told him she wanted to sleep in her bed tonight, surrounded by good memories. So he wrapped her up in the motel blanket to keep her warm during their flight. Sylar felt his phone vibrate with Matt's text message but was unable to check it while he carried Claire.

* * *

_Wickenburg Community Hospital, Wickenburg, AZ_

Danko slowly opened his eyes and looked around his surroundings. He was in a tacky hospital room, hooked up to machines. He looked at the patient identification bracelet that read John Doe and the hospital's name. "Where the hell is Wickenburg?" he asked to himself. The door opened and he closed his eyes to pretend he was still unconscious.

The nurse came in to do her rounds. She checked Danko's vitals and then looked at his incisions. "Looks better today Mr. Doe, you're healing nicely."

Danko continued to play possum for the nurse has he tried to remember how he got into this position. He vaguely remembered falling asleep in his car from the lack of blood loss that was a result of Sylar's attack. His old partner was truly alive like the cockroach he was **and** he had Claire. Danko needed to get that little bitch back. He wasn't done with her yet or her self appointed saviors. _"Really, how many fuck'n heroes does one little whore need!"_ Danko was seething. Sylar had royally fucked up his plans for the second time….the greatest threat he never saw coming but should have been prepared for just in case.

"I'll be back to check on you again Mr. Doe."

When the door closed Danko sat up and pulled off the tubes. He went to the door and quietly snuck to the doctor's locker room. After finding clothes that fit, he walked out of the hospital behind a mother and child, as he tried to make it look like he was with them incase security tried to stop him. He starting forming a list in his head, first on the list was obtaining some antibiotics and tranquilizers from the veterinarian's office before heading to Sandra Bennet's home get the bait needed lure Claire so Danko could have a nice _chat_ with his old partner. He was grateful for one thing, with Claire in tow; Sylar was going to be more predicable and easier to track than if he was alone. _"Thank you Claire Bennet, you will lead me straight to Sylar."_

_

* * *

_

_Costa Verde, CA_

Sylar landed in the park near Claire's house and escorted her to her home. Claire threaded her hand around his arm and rested it on the inside of his elbow. Sylar pulled his elbow close to his body to keep her closer to him as he walked a half a step ahead of her. To the outside observer, they looked like a young couple out on a morning stroll in the park. Sylar haled a taxi and within minutes they were standing outside the door of her mother's home. Sylar was raised his hand to knock when Claire grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

"No!" she whispered, you could hear the fear in her tone as her breathing increased.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't do this!" her breathing was becoming erratic.

Sylar quickly swept her up in his arms fireman style and moved them away from the front door. He did not stop moving until they were a few houses down before he set her down. Claire was borderline hyperventilating when he put his hands on her shoulders. He leaned down to be eye level with her. "Claire look at me," he requested, "Look at me." He repeated with a little more force until she was looking at him. "Deep breath, follow my lead." Sylar inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled. He repeated it two more times and Claire was still close to panicking in broad daylight. "Claire, I need you to focus your breathing…deep breath. In hale and fill your lungs completely and slowly exhale. Mimic me." Sylar continued to have deep breaths and she started to breath deeper, but it was still too fast. He pulled her body against him and her head rested on his chest. "Breathe with me; follow the movements of my chest."

Despite the relaxing breaths he was taking, Claire could feel his heart beating quicker than the mediation breaths he was taking. After a few minutes she was breathing with him. She felt him hug her tightly before he let her go.

Sylar stepped away and noticed she stepped forward with him. "Tell me what's going on?"

"I can't…I can't see her."

He raised his massive eyebrows in surprise, "Why not?"

"After everything that happened…how could she…"

"She's your mother Claire. She loves you. Nothing that could have happened to you would change that."

"How do you know?"

"I don't know because I don't know what it's like to have a mom, only a _mother_," he told her as he failed to keep the bitterness out of his voice when he said mother, "But my gut is telling me so."

"I don't….God this is going to make me sound like a monster…" She could feel the tears forming in her eyes.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"I don't want her to touch me." Claire confessed. She tried to hold her tears a bay. "I saw it in my mind. My mother's joyous face and bone crushing hug. And it happens so fast that I freak out…. just don't want to be touched."

"No, you're not a horrible person," he reassured her, "You're a survivor trying to get your life back."

"But it sounds so…" The tears broke its barrier and trickled down her cheeks.

"I don't care what it sounds likes. You lay down the ground rules and I will enforce them." He wiped away her tears with the pads of this thumbs.

"Okay." Claire looked away as she thought about what these rules would be and could see Sylar observing her from the corner of her eye. When she made her mental list she turned back to Sylar and conveyed her wishes. He nodded in agreement and stuck his right elbow out for her to accept or decline. She slid her hand under his arm and rested it at the crook of his elbow. Like before, he pulled his elbow tight to his body to secure her to him. He walked a half of step ahead of her back to her mother's home.

"Ready?" Claire nodded. "Get behind me, my body will shield you from her view." He waited until she was completely behind him before he knocked on the door. He could feel the death grip she has on his jacket.

Sandra finished leaving yet another message for Noah when she heard the knock on the door. Sandra walked quickly to the door, hoping it was Noah, Nathan, or another package for her that could give them a clue to Claire's whereabouts. What she didn't except to see when she opened the door was Sylar. Sandra went to scream but found she could not open her mouth or move her arm to slam the door.

"Hello Sandra," he said in a light non-Sylar tone. "If you promise not to scream or slam the door I will let go of the hold I have on your body." He could see the distrust and disgust in her eyes. "I have news about Claire."

Sandra was surprised. Why would Sylar come to her home to give her news on Claire? It did not make sense. He looked sincere and his milk chocolate eyes looked so familiar, like she had seen them before. She nodded and felt the control leave her body. To test her theory, she lifted her hand to her face and smiled in relief before she directed her attention back to Sylar. "Why are you here? What could you possibility know about Claire?"

"I'm here because I fulfilled my promise to you."

"What promise?"

"I was wearing a different face at the time."

It clicked in her mind. Those milk chocolate eyes of Nathan Petrelli, those beautiful eyes that were always trying to calculate Danko's next move, strategizing, and being productive. It was Sylar wearing Nathan's face. She closed her eyes remembering the sincerity in that version of Nathan. But could she trust him? "Where is she?"

"She's here. She's safe."

"I want to see her." She wasn't asking or requesting, she was demanding that the serial killer produce her daughter immediately.

"She has some rules first that she would like you to follow."

Sandra snorted, "Rules for her own mother?"

"Rules for everyone Sandra including me, there are no exceptions."

"And if I don't agree to these rules?"

"Claire and I disappear until I can find Danko and finish want I started."

"He's still alive?"

"Yes, but I'd prefer to have this conversation with you indoors, not out in the public eye."

"Please come in," she stepped aside and waited for him to cross the threshold of her home.

"The rules Sandra. I cannot enter your home without you agreeing to Claire's terms."

Silent tears fell from Sandra's eyes as she quickly wiped them away. "What are her rules?"

"I need you to know before I tell you that it's not meant to hurt you, she's doing it to protect herself…"

"Just tell me; whatever it is can't possibility hurt more than this past month."

"Rule one. You cannot touch her without her permission."

"Excuse me?" She stared at him, firmly believing that she misheard him.

"She wants to know ahead of time if you want to touch her. She needs that warning. If it all possible, no quick moments. At least for the time being."

"Okay."

"Rule two. With the exception of the initial reunion there will be no tears around her. If you must weep, excuse yourself." Sandra nodded. "Three, do not pressure her. Do not try and force a conversation about what that," Sylar closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he willed the anger away, "what that bastard did to her. Let her come to you."

"Sylar that's impossible!" Sandra exclaimed, "She's my daughter. I love her and I want to help her. How can I possibly help her if I don't know what…"

"I know Sandra. I know." She looked so broken; he just wanted to hug her. Even if Claire wasn't hiding behind him, he knew it would not be is place.

"Okay."

"Those are Claire's terms, are they agreeable?"

Sandra wiped away more tears. These terms were not agreeable, but she needed to see her daughter. "Yes, it will be impossibly hard, but I'm going to try."

"Not try, _do_." Sandra nodded. "I do have one request and Claire has already agreed it with the understanding it is for her own safety that I asked her of it."

"What is it?" Her patience was wearing thin. She wanted to see her daughter.

"Don't tell Bennet," Sylar said.

Sandra looked at him like he had grown a second head. "He deserves to know she's alright."

"I don't know where Danko is right now. The one thing I do know is that Danko could never track me down but Bennet; Danko has been tracking his every movement. If Bennet knows we have Claire, he's going to come running and unknowingly bring Danko with him. _I _am bringing my vengeance to Danko for what he did to her…not the other way around. Claire will never, _ever_ be that close to hell's reject ever again."

Sandra thought about Noah's betrayal and how much it hurt. She couldn't imagine doing that to him. But Sylar's logic was sound and the murderous glint in his eye gave her hope that Danko would be caught soon by the man she used to refer to as Satan incarnated. If Claire sought comfort in the devil before her, she didn't want to image what Danko did to her. "How long do we need to keep it a secret?"

"I'm going to call my dog to watch over you two and then I'm going to pick up Danko's trail. Well, we all know what I'm planning on doing to Danko when I get my hands on him."

"I agree to both of your terms. Can I please see my daughter now?" Sandra was surprised when Sylar stepped to the side to reveal Claire. She was there the whole time and Sandra didn't have a clue. But once glance at Sylar and she should have figured that he wouldn't have left Claire alone to speak to her.

Tears flowed from Claire's eyes as she stood face to face with her mother for the first time in weeks. "Mom," she choked out through the tears.

Sandra momentarily forgot her agreement with Sylar and stepped forward to wrap her arms around her daughter, "Claire!"

Claire's eyes widen at her mother's quick movements. She took a step back and tripped on the stairs. She felt her body fall backwards.

Sylar's movements were quick. With his telekinesis he pushed Sandra back into the house and slammed the door with one hand as the other wrapped around Claire's back. His left hand reached around her as well when the door slammed. He pulled her to his body and felt himself falling as well. He pulled her to the side as he attempted to bear the most of the impact from the fall. He let out a small cry of agony when he felt his shoulder pop out of its socket, his arm snap and his ribs break. After the adrenaline worn away, Sylar wondered why he just didn't float peacefully to the ground. "Are you okay?" he asked a wide eyed blonde on top of him. "Are you hurt?" Her head moved side to side slowly as the shock still held her immobile.

The door opened and he shot out his hand to stop Sandra in her place. "I'm sorry!" she said, "Claire are you okay?"

"I'm okay Mom," Claire told her as she rolled off Sylar.

Sylar popped his should back into his socket and let out a hiss. He connected the broken bone in his arm and waited for the healing to take over. "Son of bitch," he mumbled under his breath.

"Are you okay?"

Sylar looked into her concerned eyes and nodded. He stood up and scanned the surrounding area. He left out a sigh of relief that they did not draw any unwanted attention. Sylar glanced at Claire and saw blood. He gestured to her arm before he pulled up the sleeve. Her wound was bleeding. "Shit." He mumbled again. He pulled Claire behind him and released his hold on Sandra. "After you," he told the older woman who looked even sadder that this man had placed himself between them to protect her daughter from her.

* * *

_Wickenburg Community Hospital, Wickenburg, AZ_

Peter walked into Wickenburg Community Hospital. It was decided by the group that Peter would go and use his good looks and charm to convince the nurse that John Doe could be his uncle instead of Matt using his mind control. Matt went with him as Plan B just incase.

"Here's your uncle's room," the young nurse told Peter.

"Is he taking some tests?"

"No, why…." The nurse trailed off when she looked at Danko's empty bed. She walked quickly to the phone and dialed the number to the nurse's desk. "Hey Katie, its Jen. Is John Doe in room 222 having a test?...NO?...are you sure?" Jen looked at Peter with apologetic eyes, "We have a missing patient, call security." Jen hung up the phone and turned back to an empty space. "Rob?" she asked for Peter. She stepped outside the room and ran into Matt. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you…"

Matt put his hand on Jen's forehead wiping her memory of Peter and replacing it with a memory of her finding Danko's room empty on her own.

Jen blinked and looked at him, "Can I help you?"

"I'm trying to find the cafeteria."

"Take the elevator to the 1st floor and go right."

"Thanks."

Matt walked away from the circus that was starting to form behind him. When he and Peter met up the rest of them at the agreed rendezvous point Noah was updating the group on a break in at the numerous veterinarians' offices for antibiotics and tranquilizers. The last office there was a witness to the crime. The perp matched Danko's description and he was heading northwest towards California. They planned to leave in 10 minutes to Sandra's house, figuring that is where Danko was heading. Matt walked briskly to the bathroom to text Sylar before he rejoined the others.

* * *

_Costa Verde, CA_

Sandra waited for Sylar to meet her in the kitchen. After her daughter allowed her to hug her, Sylar ushered her upstairs to shower and change.

"Sandra."

She looked up to see Sylar a few feet from her. She sucked in a deep breath and willed her heart to slow its pace. He was really good at sneaking up on people. _"Well he is a serial killer after all, I'm sure sneaky is part of the job description"_ she thought. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," he dismissed it as if freeing Claire and brining her home was an everyday occurrence that required no recognition.

"It's everything." She corrected him as she hesitantly took a few steps forward and hugged him. She felt him tense up and awkwardly put his arms around her. It was apparent this was as awkward for him as it was for her. "Thank you," she said again when she pulled away and stepped back. "You brought my little girl back to me."

Sylar felt his phone vibrate again. He cursed himself for forgetting the first one when they were in flight. "Excuse me." He pulled out his phone and smiled at Matt's first message.

_We found him. He's in the Wickenburg Community Hospital. Wickenburg, AZ._

He grinned like a kid a Christmas. "Sandra, do you happen to have a map of Arizona?"

"No."

"Can I use the computer then?"

"Sure, it's in Noah's office." Sandra gave him directions.

Sylar stopped at the stairs and looked up in the direction of Claire's room. He could hear her heartbeat increase as he wondered if she was having a nightmare. He searched for her thoughts, but keep up with the speed and frequent changes. He started up the stairs to check on her when he read the next text from Matt.

_Danko is gone. Last seen headed to California. He stole enough tranquilizers from the veterinary hospitals to kill an elephant._

"Fuck!" he hissed rushed back to Sandra. They needed to leave quickly. "I need you to make a list of all the places you have relatives and every place your family has ever went to. Do not make this list on a pad of paper but a single sheet on your kitchen table. We can't leave any clues."

"Why?"

"Just do it. Then I need you to pack a bag. Take only the necessities."

"What's going on Sylar?"

"Just do as I say or we'll leave you behind!" Sylar threatened her.

Sandra was about to say something when Claire's ear piercing scream echoed through the home followed by a loud crash. Sylar ran to Claire's room and half jumped and flew over the railing to get to her faster. Sandra grabbed the butcher knife from the kitchen and followed him. When she reached the room, Claire was hysterical as she clutched onto Sylar and her mirror was in pieces and her bears wore torn in half. "What happened?"

* * *

_Fifteen minutes earlier_

Sylar walked out of Claire's room, "All clear," he told her, "room is completely boogeyman free." He had changed her bandage when Claire asked him to check her room for the boogeyman.

"With the exception of you."

"Of course." He gave her a wicked grin as she walked by him. "I'll be downstairs with your mom. Try and get some sleep."

Claire nodded as she looked around her room that reminded her of her childhood. Of innocence that she doesn't have anymore thanks to Danko. She grabbed the bear off of her bed. It was mocking her with it's 'all is well smile' and before she registered the thought she had tore the head off. "Serves you right." The bear dropped from her hands as she moved over to the stack of bears. One by one she decapitated a lifetime of presents from her father. Gifts that not only represented the innocent, care free, virtuous person she once was but also the lies and deception told repeatedly by her father. "Lies! It's all lies!" She crumbled to the floor in tears.

"Well, well," Claire froze as her visitor's icy tone came over her body, "What has my young captive done to her room?"

Claire looked up and tears flooded her eyes at the sight of Danko in her room.

"Men don't like their whores to be so overly dramatic."

Claire couldn't move. She was frozen in place under his crippling presence. "Don't," she barely whispered.

"You know I have to confess," he told her as he loomed over her, "I always wanted to know what it was like to fuck you like the little whore you are."

Claire let out an ear piercing scream as Danko started slowly walking towards her. Everything felt like slow motion as he came at her. She moved backwards and tripped over her full length mirror. It came crashing down next to her. Danko stalked towards her, she crawled back until she hit the wall. Claire heard heavy footsteps outside her room. Sylar turned the corner and stopped. He stood tall with the bolts of electricity trickling from his fingers. His eyes scanned the room looking for her assailant.

"He can't see me whore," Danko whispered in her ear. Then he licked her face from the bottom of her cheek to the tip of her ear.

Claire couldn't understand how Sylar couldn't see Danko. She could feel his breath on her neck. She swatted at her face and wanted to throw up when she felt his tongue on her body. Sylar kneeled next to her and held out his arms. She wanted more than anything to fling herself into them but she couldn't move. Danko had paralyzed her with his presence. _"Why can't you see him?"_

Sylar looked confused as he scanned the room. He listened closely but all he could hear was Claire's erratic heartbeat and Sandra coming up the stairs. There was no one there. "Claire there's no one here."

"He's right there!" she screamed at Sylar pointing next her. She saw the lost look on his face and turned her head. Danko's image started to disappear. "It was in my head." She realized. "It was all in my head. But he was here." She threw herself at him. He was prepared to catch her as he pulled her closely to his body. He kissed the crown of her head and started whisper reassurances in her ear.

"What happened?"

Claire turned towards the sound of the familiar voice of her mother but her eyes stopped at the knife. She started screaming again and burrowing into Sylar.

After his brain was assault with the horror movie Claire played her in mind when she saw the knife, he glared at Sandra and with the help of his telekinesis, removed the knife from her hand and threw it across the room. "It's okay," he whispered to Claire, "You're safe. He's not here. He can't hurt you."

"He's here, he hurt me. He used it to…"

"Shish, its safe. He's not here. I promise you."

Her body was shaking as the tears continued to pool from her eyes, "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing," he told her, "This isn't your fault. Danko's a monster and he won't get away with it."

"Claire," Sandra whispered as she kneeled down behind them. She placed her hand on Claire's back and pulled back when she saw Claire flinch with contact.

"Rule number one," Sylar reminded her. He took control of her body again. "I'm sorry." He apologized when Sandra realized she wasn't in control of her body anymore.

Sandra inhaled deeply. It was harder than she thought it would be. Her initial reaction was to just steal her away from Sylar and hold her close. Her heart broke with the truth that Claire preferred Sylar over her own mother.

"That's not true; you just need to follow her rules."

Sandra looked at Sylar and wondered how he knew what she was thinking. She rationalized it to her facial expressions. He controlled her arms, not the rest of her. _Follow her rules._ At first, she believed these ridiculous rules where made by Sylar as a way to torment her. But now, looking at Claire…she knew it was Claire's wishes. Sylar respected her wishes and tended to her needs. She didn't know how long they were together but she could see the connection…the bond that they had formed with each other. Claire needed him with her. Sandra could see it as Claire inhaled his scent. This man kept her grounded and is keeping her safe. Sandra didn't understand it and she sure didn't like this attachment but she loved her daughter. For Claire, she could learn to tolerate this man.

"Claire," her voice was weak, "If it's alright with you, I'm going to put my hand on your back sweetheart. You remember like I did when you were little and had a nightmare? Just like that sweetie." She waited for Claire to acknowledge her but it never came. She did notice Sylar gesture to Claire but didn't move. He rolled his eyes at her and moved her hand to Claire's back. She missed the moment Claire gave to go ahead but was grateful Sylar clued her in.

"I need you to do what we discussed downstairs." Sylar told Sandra cryptically.

Sandra just stared at him like he was the world's biggest idiot. Like she could leave her daughter like this condition!

"Sandra, I wouldn't be asking you…"

"_Asking my ass, more like demanding you jackass."_

Sylar held in the urge to scowl at her. "…to do this if it wasn't _very _important."

"What's going on?" Claire asked as she pulled away from Sylar to look at him.

"Nothing…."

Claire immediately picked up on his lie and glared at him. "You promised never to lie to me."

"We need to go. We can't stay here."

"Why not?" Sandra asked.

"It's not safe."

"Danko's on his way here, isn't he?" Claire asked in a childlike voice with new tears threatening to spill.

"I'm going to keep you safe." He told her as he avoided answering her question.

Claire buried her head into his chest as new tears flooded from her eyes. She knew what evasive answers from Sylar meant. Danko was on his way here. It was the only reason he would take her away from the comfort of her room that she craved hours before.

"Sandra I need you to do what I asked. Claire, pack a bag of the necessities. I will be back soon."

"What are you going to do?" Sandra asked him.

"I'm going to procure us some transportation."

"I have my car and Claire's…"

Sylar looked at her with a 'duh' expression. "We need to procure a vehicle that won't be easily traced back to us."

It clicked in Sandra's mind. Danko was coming after Claire and Sylar. They were being hunted by the madman. In a weird twist of fate, it was another madman that was protecting them. Sandra took a moment to process how in a blink of an eye, your life can change or even your perception of something or someone one.

"Sandra," his voice pulled her back to the present, "Time is of the essence. Claire pack a bag…"

"You're not leaving me here alone to fend for myself!" She looked at him in disbelief. "You can't leave me alone with him!" She hissed at him.

"He's not here and you're not alone. Sandra will be here with you."

"She's not…" Claire trailed off as she was too ashamed to finish her thought. _"She's not you." _No matter how truthful it was, it would hurt them both too much to say it out loud.

It was excruciating. The pain she felt with Claire's unspoken words. It was like her own daughter had stabbed her in the heart then started twisting it to make it bleed more. Especially since her daughter looked embarrassed and Sylar looked ashamed at what was left unsaid. It made it hurt just a little more. But she could not fault her daughter on this. Not when she has no idea what Danko did to her. If Sylar's presence makes her feel safe, then Sandra will go along with it. "It's okay Sylar," she told them both, "I will get more work done alone. Please just find a car and we'll go."

Sylar looked at the older woman and his respect for her grew hundred times more than it had a moment ago. He felt ashamed that he was a barrier between them, but he couldn't walk away. Not when Claire needed him. "Pack for you and Claire. Remember, we're packing light so whatever fits in a backpack incase we need to leave in a hurry on foot."

"Food?"

"Anything that will serve as an energy booster that does not need refrigeration and bottled water if you have it or if you have those reusable bottles we can keep refilling…that would be ideal."

"Okay."

"Remember write on a single piece of paper on the kitchen table. If you use a pad, he can trace it. I'll be back in 20 minutes, 30 at tops." He stretched his hand out to Claire who grabbed it. He tightened his hold and led her out of the home.

Sandra took one last look at Claire's destroyed room before she went to Claire's closet and grabbed the old military bag they had bought at the Army Navy store. Claire fell in love with it and Noah could not deny her anything. She packed some of Claire's belongs she still had at home before going to her room. She thought of clothes for Sylar as it was painfully obvious that they were wearing his only clothes. Noah did not have anything left here and Lyle's clothes would be too small. She looked at the clock and realized she didn't have enough time to worry about that now. Sandra would just have to make him stop so he can acquire a change of clothes as well. She grabbed Lyle's biggest shirt for Sylar until more suitable attire could be obtained.

Sandra took Lyle's backpack and carried it the kitchen. She packed the granola bars, fruit bars, and the two aluminum reusable water bottles. She wished she had a third, but her and Noah had no use for it like the kids. She filled them up and placed them in the bag. She glanced at her watch and new they should be back by now. A foreign mobile phone rang and she did not recognize the number. She could only guess that it was left by Sylar. "Hello?"

"Sandra."

"Sylar were are you?"

"Can you carry the bags?"

"Yes."

"There's a cab waiting outside to take you to us."

"But…"

He lowered his voice to say, "When Danko questions the neighbors, I don't want them to know the make, model, or color."

"_What are you whispering about?"_ Claire's voice rang through the receiver.

"Mind your own business," Sylar told her daughter. "We'll see you soon."

Sandra walked outside and saw the cab waiting. She got in and it took off without waiting for her directions…not like she had any. The cab pulled up to the ice cream joint. Sandra took a moment to take in the sight before her. Claire was sharing a bowl of ice cream with Sylar. They were both laughing as they shoved their spoon in the other person's face. Sandra savored this moment knowing she would not be seeing this Claire as much in the future. The taxi driver refused her money as he explained he was well paid. She opened the door and grabbed her bags.

"I told you it was the best ice cream ever!" Claire exclaimed before tensing up when Sandra's shadow casted on her.

"Hey Sandra," Sylar greeted her with a bright smile. Claire relaxed and turned her attention to her mother.

"I brought this for you to use until we can find something more suitable," Sandra pulled Lyle's shirt from the bag and he thanked her for thinking of him. He unzipped the jacket he stole from Peter and put on Lyle's shirt. Claire started laughing when she noticed how skin tight the shirt was on him.

"We are so trading."

"Not on your life buddy." Claire told him. "I've claimed this shirt mine and I will keep it forever."

"We'll see about that." Sylar told her.

"Promises, promises."

"I have the list you asked for." She held out the paper, "And I did as instructed."

"Thank you, I know it seemed nit picky of me." He took the paper from her and looked over the names.

"Claire's safety is also my number one concern," Sandra said, "So what are you going to do with it?"

"First we're getting out of town," he folded the paper and put it in his front pocket, "when we reach the hotel, I'll take a closer look at it." Sandra nodded as Sylar took the army bag from her and put it around him. He went to grab the backpack but Sandra wouldn't allow him to have it. Sylar pointed the way to the car with his left hand as he stuck his right elbow out for Claire to grab.

"Mom you'll never guess the dorky car Sylar brought!" she exclaimed as she put her hand on Sylar's inside elbow. She recanted the story on how Sylar took pieces of trash and turned it into gold to pay for the car.

Sandra nodded and smiled at the appropriate places but still somehow felt like an outsider looking in. She felt someone watching and glanced at Sylar. He gestured to his elbow that he held out to her. Sandra smiled as she slid her hand inside his elbow. She held in her laughter at the thought how her daughter's ex-boogeyman…was he an ex or current? She wasn't so sure anymore. Whoever he was, he was escorting them to the car he bought and used literal trash as the currency. She burst out in laughter when she saw the car Sylar bought as he open the passenger's side door and watched Claire argue with Sylar.

"What's so funny Mom?"

"Who picked this car?"

"I did why?" Sylar was curious as he didn't want to invade her thoughts to know if something was wrong with the car.

Sandra tried to stop laughing but the mental image of Sylar with Claire on his arm as he haggle the car dealer.

"Seriously Mom you're going to draw attention to us!"

"Claire….you're….right…" she said through her laugher, "…Sylar….did…buy…dorky…car!"

Sylar narrowed his eyes at the woman in front of him, "2010 consumer safety report stated that the Volvo C30 is one of the safest cars on the road. I didn't think yours and Claire's safety was so frick'n hilarious!" His tone was getting angrier by the second as mother and daughter continued to mock his choice in cars. Granted he did buy the car with the reputation for the safe family car…but what the hell! "Grey is one of the common colors seen on a Volvo…we'll blend into the background. The red and burnt orange color ones the dealer had would draw unwanted attention. And don't get me started on the shiny silver car." He continued to defend his choice of vehicles. "The four doors were meant for convenience of getting in and out of the back seat." The ladies' laughter grew with his explanation. "Logically this is the safest way to travel…what the hell is so _fucking_ funny!"

"You're….vein…in…neck," Claire traced it with her finger as she breathed deeply, "It's practically jumping out of your skin."

"You're impossible," he hissed at her.

"And you're adorable when you're angry." Claire laughed even louder at the mental image of his stumping his foot on the ground, crossing his arms, and lip stuck out in full pout mode.

"Get your ass in the car Claire before I leave you behind." His threat was empty as both he and Claire knew he would never just leave her behind with Danko on the prowl. But he was pissed at the mental image she had in her head. Sylar knew at that moment, Claire would never be terrified of him ever again…not with that mental picture seared in both their minds.

In a bold move that surprised all three of them, Claire stood on her the tips of her toes and put her left hand on his cheek as she kissed the other one. She caressed his stubble face before she dropped her hand. "Thank you for being _you _and over analyzing a simple purchase of our _getaway_ car." She emphasized each syllable in getaway.

Sylar look stunned as she slid into the seat. "Claire your mother," he said shaking his head to free himself from the thoughts she invoked, "Would be more comfortable…."

"It's okay Sylar," Sandra said walking to the back door. She smiled when Sylar opened it for her too, "Claire can have the front." She lowered her voice, "It hurts but I understand. She needs to see you and be able to touch you. And I'm okay with it…for now."

Sylar nodded as he closed the doors for his traveling companions. He placed his bag in the empty seat next to Sandra's before he got into the driver's side.

"And Sylar?"

"Yes?"

"You really need to shave that stubble, it hurt my hand."

"Simple solution would be not to touch my face now wouldn't it?" He griped at her. _Who the hell was she to tell him what to do?_ "And I was a little preoccupied these last few days to worry about shaving my face."

"Excuses, excuses," she said in a sing song voice. He opened his mouth to retort when she cut him off. "So we gonna leave any time s…."

"Gonna is not a word in any language." He said interrupting her. Why did he feel like he already had this conversation with her today?

"Sure it is; it's English. You might think its bad English, but it's English just the same."

"What!" he exclaimed as he looked horrified at her statement, "Somewhere your English Professor felt a stab in the heart and doesn't know why!"

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes, "As I was saying, we _gonna_ leave soon or just have people gawk at the weirdoes in the Volvo?"

"Yes dear," he said in a mocking tone as he rolled his eyes. When he was about to shift into drive the silent observer from the backseat instructed them to "Put their seat beats on." With a grunt he obeyed before he pulled out of their parking space heading east out of town.


	10. Outside Looking In

**A special shout out to **Darned4AllEternity who graciously beta this chapter…you rock!

* * *

**Chapter 10 Outside Looking In**

Sandra sat on the bed wearing a bathrobe as she stared in the mirror at the empty side of the bed where her daughter was _supposed _to sleep in but never did. Claire never felt as safe and secure in her embrace like she did in _his. _Her hair was still damp from her shower as she waited for her clothes to be dried. Sandra refused to wear _that man's _clothes while hers was in the laundry. Mr. Muggles tried desperately tried to soothe his master but she was lost in her thoughts as she tried to piece together how she had gotten here. Her daughter continued to reject her and clung to Sylar as if he was her lifeline. That _murdering _**bastard **was the one that her daughter sought solace from and shuddered from her mother's touch at every attempt. There was a small knock on the door followed by her name spoken softly. She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. _"Speak of the devil and the bastard comes running."_

Sylar gently opened the door and met her grief-stricken eyes. He moved quickly and quietly through the room as her thoughts assaulted his mind. He set her clothes next to her and turned back towards the door. When he reached it, he hesitated as he debated his next move. She was Claire's mother and Claire **loved** her mother with her whole heart. There was a need deep inside him that wanted him to fix this...to fix Sandra's pain...and, most importantly, to fix Claire. Sylar turned back to Sandra and crouched down in front of her as an attempt to make himself look smaller, less intimidating.

"More rules?" She didn't try to keep the bitterness from her tone; it was only Sylar. She didn't have to pretend to be okay in how he managed to _weasel_ himself into her daughter's life. Playtime was only when her daughter was present; then she had to take off the façade that shows that their increasing co-dependence on each other didn't scare her.

"No," he responded quickly, "this wasn't your fault. Danko is a lot more twisted than even _I _had anticipated. Claire's reaction to you should decrease now that we found the source of…"

"Spare me your patronizing tone Sylar!" she hissed at the younger man. "You're enjoying this!"

Her words hurt more than he wanted to admit. He was trying to play peacemaker, not be her verbal punching bag. Everything inside of him screamed to leave her behind, as she was dead weight—especially when he caught her trying to contact Bennett _twice_. But Claire needed her and he needed to keep Claire safe at any cost, even if that meant taking on an extra traveling companion who slowed them down and keep a closer eye on her...then he would; he'd do anything for Claire right now. That thought alone terrified him. _When did I become so dependent on Claire's well-being? _"That's not true," Sylar defended himself. "This isn't about me…"

"Bullshit! You must love the fact that she can't stand the sight of me and runs to you for everything, you sick son of a bitch!"

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back. All week he was on the receiving end of Sandra's hostility, but now his tolerance and patience had finally run out. "Fuck you!" His tone was low and dangerous. "You have no idea what I'm going through." He jumped to his feet and pointed his deadly finger at her as the sun reflected off the silver band on the third finger of his left hand. "But it doesn't matter. The only person that matters is Claire!" He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Don't you dare belittle me!"

"You just don't get it, Sandra. It's not about you and your feelings or mine…"

"Like you have any," she mumbled under breath, unaware that Sylar heard her.

"It's all about Claire and her…"

"You condescending bastard! Don't you dare presume to tell me anything about my daughter! In case you've forgotten, you're just as bad as the asshole that took her from us!"

Sandra could see the anger oozing from his persona as well as the conflict on his face. There was no doubt in her mind that if she weren't Claire's mother, he would have thrown her across the room, grabbed Claire, and never looked back. She thought about apologizing because he really didn't deserve her aggression when, the metallic reminder of their unhealthy attachment caused the hate and jealously to grow even more. Her daughter relied more on the monster that cut her head open than the woman who loved her every single moment of her existence. She didn't think God would fault her hatred of this man.

"I can see that you're hurting from how Claire's reacted to you," he said as calmly as he could, "but I'm not going to let you treat me like this anymore. This," he gestured between them, "I don't deserve."

All Sandra could see was red and green. If she were thinking more clearly, she wouldn't have yelled at the top of her lungs, "You deserve a hell of a lot worse for what you did to her! You broke her!"

"I didn't do this to her!" He hissed at her when he heard the small gasp from the other room. Claire had heard her mother. He was irate that he had to have this discussion with Sandra when he wanted to reassure Claire that her mother didn't mean those callous words.

"Then who did!"

"Danko!" Sylar growled out. He was beyond annoyed of being punished by this woman for something he didn't do; it added to the guilt he already felt for his part to play in Claire's kidnapping. He saw Claire's latest nightmare when Danko told Claire he wanted to use her to seek his revenge on Sylar by breaking his favorite "toy" beyond repair. The fact that the crazy bastard had the audacity to refer to Claire as an inanimate object fed his inner monster's rage. What ate away most at him was when she was taken; how he was useless, trapped in Nathan's body. Sylar knew that for as long as he lived, he will never forgive himself for what he did in his part. If he would have just killed the sick bastard instead of leaving him alive and toying with him, Claire would have never went through what she did. He knew that he would spend forever drowning in the guilt. He took a deep breath in hopes to calm himself as he ran frustrated fingers through his dark locks. "Do you even remember that despicable bastard? **He** did this to her. **We,**" he gestured between them once more, "are picking up the pieces of Claire and trying to put her back together!"

"Don't you mean you?" Sandra said harshly. "She wants nothing to do with me!"

"That's so far from the truth and you know it!" He took a deep breath; he needed to get control of this situation. Sandra wasn't mad at him. She was angry with the situation and he was the only one she could unleash this fury on. He could empathize with the older woman on how helpless she must feel being on the outside looking in...He feels the same way. No matter how much Claire might be leaning on him for support, there is nothing he can do to take away what happened to her, to heal her. His natural born ability is useless to fix the one broken person he desperately wants to repair. She was Humpty Dumpty and he continually failed to piece her back together again. "Do you have any idea how much I respect and admire you for how you're handling this…" His sentence was silenced by Sandra's hand across his face.

Sandra couldn't believe she just slapped her daughter's _psychotic_ **serial killer** in the face, and by his expression, neither could he. She covered her mouth with her hands as she let out a gasp. Her hand still tingled from the amount of force she used. The red imprint of her hand on his cheek quickly healed itself. When his cold dark eyes met hers, she was certain that he was going to kill her. The single thought that raced through her mind was how they had gotten to this point. It was only seven days ago that they left Costa Verde to Junction City, Kansas.

* * *

_Monday_

"Stop it." He swatted Claire's hand from the radio.

Sandra rubbed her temples as she willed the headache to go away. It was Monday and they had spent the past thirty-six hours in this car. Sylar only stopped for food and gas on the scenic route that only Sylar knew where. There were moments that the car has swerved when they had been on the road for twenty hours. The man really needed to stop and sleep before he killed them all. ...Or at least killed _her_. As much as she resented the man, Sandra had to believe that he wouldn't be so reckless with her daughter in the car. But he was that stereotypical male that believed he was correct and never stopped to ask for directions. Sandra was certain she had seen that landmark before and he was driving in circles. _"Great we're lost." _

"We're not lost," Sylar told her. "I know exactly where we are...and no, we're not stopping until we reach our destination." Sylar looked at her briefly before turning his attention back to the blonde next to him.

She stared at him, as she was sure she had said that to herself and not out loud. Apparently, she was getting stir crazy in the back seat and wanted to stretch her legs. Sylar was using roads that were not heavily traveled and had yet to use a single freeway. It seemed like he was taking the least conventional way to wherever they were going.

"I swear to God, Claire, if you push the repeat button again, you'll be sorry." His voice was low and the threat was laced in his tone.

"Whatever…it's a good song."

"It was a crap song after the first time hearing it. And guess what? After listening to it thirty times in a row, it's still a shitty ass song!" Sylar hissed as he glanced at Claire before looking back at Sandra. "You're giving your mother a headache."

"I think it's your screeching that's doing it," Claire countered.

"I do _not_ screech…"

"Would you both _stop it_!" Sandra reprimanded them from the backseat. "You're both contributing to this migraine!"

"We're almost to the next town; I'll stop at the first store I see so we can pick you up some medication." He looked at her through the rear view mirror. He could see the distress in her face.

"Thank you, Sylar," she told him with a smile. "Besides, Claire, I thought you despised the Jonas Brothers." Sandra didn't want to rat out her own daughter but this _had_ to stop. It was amusing at first to watch her short-stature daughter torment the giant but it quickly became agonizing to herself as well; she _really_ wanted that song to end, too.

"Mother!" Claire exclaimed, hoping to cut her mother off.

"What?" Sylar nearly screamed as he glared at Claire who tried her best to forge an innocent smile.

"You told me for days how much you hate that band and your father has no clue what type of music you listen to if he thought…"

"What are you doing?" Claire interrupted her mother as she watched Sylar eject the CD. "Give that back!" She reached for it but he pulled it away from her.

"What I should have done from the moment you put this shit in the stereo!" He tossed the CD out the window and winced as Claire's scream reminded him of nails on the chalkboard.

"I cannot believe you just did that!"

Sylar didn't think it was possible for her voice to go so high. He was certain only he and dogs could hear her. His shocked expression hardened. "I was doing the world a favor."

"I _love_ that…"

"Bullshit, Claire," Sandra said in a tone that told Claire not to challenge her mother. "You hate it. You only have it because your father gave it to you."

"That's why I kept it!" Claire protested when in reality she hadn't had time to sell it on Amazon.

"You were torturing your mother and me with that shit and you know it!"

"I wasn't intending to torment my mother," she mumbled as she crossed her arms.

"What did you say?" He glared at her.

"Shut up, Sylar or I'll start singing it," Claire threatened.

He slammed on the brakes as the car came to a quick halt causing both women to grab onto whatever part of it they could grip. Sylar ignored the stares and blaring horns from the cars behind him as he narrowed his eyes at Claire. "You even hum a fucking bar of that shitty ass music I promise to whatever God you worship that I will burn every copy of their music, electrocute every computer and iPod that has it on iTunes, annihilate iTunes altogether so that no one else can download the song, and kill the whole fucking family so I will never have to hear another note." As soon as those murderous words left his mouth, he wished he hadn't said them. Claire was fragile and he was going on about killing innocent people just because he hated their music. He should have just tolerated it for her sake.

Claire stared at him wide-eyed as she started to think that maybe she pushed him a little too far with the whole torture-Sylar-with-crappy-music that she had planned to do throughout the car ride. But she only thought it was a fair counter attack to his "world's longest and most scenic road trip." However, seeing the stress on both his and her mother's faces, she definitely went too far. "Sorry..." her voice trailed off when she saw something behind Sylar, "Oh my God!" she shrieked.

Sylar whipped around to see what she was looking at but couldn't find any threatening presence. "Where is…" The sound of her car door opening turned his attention back to Claire. He reached for her but she was already out of the car as she ran off. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" Sylar put the car in park and jumped out of the car after her.

Claire turned back to Sylar, "Sixty percent off!" She pointed to the store behind her.

"We don't have tim…"

"You're in dire need of clothes," she informed him as she waved him over.

"I'm not in dire need of any…"

"Hurry up, slow poke!" She ran across the street with car horns blaring after her.

"Jesus, Claire!" Sylar called out after her before he turned back to Sandra. "Can you..." He was gesturing to Claire as he jogged back to the car still halfway in the road. "I see you there jackass so you can lay off the fucking horn!" he snapped at the driver behind them.

"Go after Claire, I'll park the car," Sandra waved him off as she sent an apologetic look to the car behind them.

"But…"

"Did you see her face?" she asked him as she turned her attention back to him. "You're not going to get out of this, so you might as well play along. It's the only way to make it out alive when Claire is on shopping mode. Besides, it's…"

"A nice distraction for her," he finished her sentence.

"Exactly." She shooed him away, "I'd get in there before she goes completely nuts..."

His eyes widened a bit as he wondered how much truth there was to her statement. "If you have difficulty finding us, just listen for the psychotic man pleading for death."

Sandra just laughed as she slid into the driver's side and noted how Sylar closed her door before heading after Claire with a pained expression on his face. A car had pulled out of a spot across the street from the store Sylar had disappeared into. It took Sandra three tries to successfully parallel park and was grateful that the peanut gallery wasn't there to comment. As she crossed the intersection, she had visions of the torment Claire was giving Sylar. When she opened the door, her grin dropped when she saw Sylar sitting on the bench stretched out with his hands behind his head. _Is he sleeping?_ Claire was looking at a plaid, red cowboy shirt.

"What about this?"

"Looks good," he responded with his eyes still closed.

"Hey!" She kicked him when she realized he wasn't paying attention to her. "Pretend to care!"

"It's rude to stare," he said.

"I'd stop staring if you…"

"I'm talking about your mother loitering in the doorway." He opened his eyes and looked at Sandra's stunned expression.

"_How the hell did he know that?"_ She stared dumbfounded for a second before she pulled herself together. "Sorry." She walked completely into the store.

"Hey, mom!" Claire smiled at her before scowling at Sylar. "Tell him to behave."

"What makes you think he'll listen to me?" Sandra asked, completely flabbergasted that her daughter believed she could just order around the stubborn serial killer.

Claire kicked his foot again. "My mother says to behave!"

Sylar just snorted as he pulled himself up from the bench. "Yes, dear..." he responded in a monotonous voice, "...Whatever you say, dear. Would you like me to jump off the building and die, dear?"

Sandra could see the fatigue in his movements and tone. "Claire..." She had unsuccessfully tried to intercede on his behalf.

"Or perhaps bludgeon me with a solid object? Maybe…"

"Oh stop being so over-dramatic," Claire rolled her eyes. "Now, I've decided," she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a pile of clothes, "that I would look great in these, so go try them on to make sure they fit you. I guessed your size."

"Shouldn't they look good on me and not you, since there supposed to be mine?" Sylar _should _have given up trying to fish out her logic. Claire looked at him like he was an idiot for even implying that they were going to be his clothes.

"Like we both don't know that I'm going to be wearing this more than you!" She held up the cowboy shirt she was admiring when Sandra walked into the store against his chest. She smiled when it looked good. "You know I think that's going to be my favorite shirt. It brings out your eyes."

"It's red!"

"And?"

"Mine are brown."

Claire just stared and gave a blanked expression that implied _so?_

"How on earth can a red shirt bring out the brown in my eyes?" He waited for her retort and realized that her blank stare was her response. "I give up," Sylar threw his hands up in. "You have absolutely no logical reasoning for..._anything_!" He cringed when he heard himself speak. _"Great, she's reduced me to a blundering idiot!"_

Sandra had a carefree smile on her face as she watched him grab it from her and pulled it out of her reach when she tried to take it back. Claire put her hands on his shoulders in a failed attempt to push herself up. Frustrated, Claire gave up on practically climbing up his body and elbowed him hard in the stomach. He wasn't excepting it and leaned over as he sucked in a huge breath of air. She grabbed the shirt as his hands went to his stomach.

"Mine!" She smiled in triumph.

"You're _so_ going to pay for that!" he playfully threatened.

Claire giggled before letting out a small scream as Sylar stalked after her. Sandra shook her head at their childish antics and silently thanked God for this sight. She tucked each smile and laugh away in her heart as she knew that Claire's demons still followed her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the sales associate stand next to her. The woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties about Claire's stature with mousy brown hair.

"How long have they been married?"

"Hmm?"

"Your daughter and her husband," she asked as Sylar caught Claire and started tickling her. "How long have they been married?"

"They're not married," she responded as politely as she could as the horrific image ran through her head. Sandra immediately observed the pair before her. There was no denying the closeness there as she witnessed Claire breathing heavily as she stared into Sylar's eyes. Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her because she could have sworn that their heads moved a centimeter closer before Sylar pulled away from her and grabbed the clothes Claire picked out for him to try on. Claire blindly followed him until he stopped at the dressing room door and held his hand up to stop her before pulling the curtain for privacy. Her daughter's cheeks turned a little red as she continued to look for clothes and throw the ones she liked over the curtain to Sylar. "Why would you..."

"My husband and I used to be that crazy in love."

"Used to be?"

"He was a solider; he died in combat two years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said through a pained smile. "Looking at them reminded me of simpler times."

Sandra snorted at the thought of those two being simple. This poor woman was completely clueless about their complexities.

"What the hell is this!"

"Just try it on you big baby!"

"Hell would have to freeze over first Claire," he informed her as he pulled the curtain back and took a few steps out before he threw the shirt in her face. He was wearing the plaid shirt Claire loved; it was half-buttoned as he was in the middle of putting it on when the offensive shirt had hit his head.

She caught it and threw it right back, "I want to see it on you!"

"Never. Going. To. Happen!" Claire's face fell as tears formed in the corner of her eyes. "Are you seriously trying to use emotional extortion with me?" Her bottom lip stuck out slightly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you the one that said I'm immune to all human emotions?"

His eyebrows raised slightly as a tear fell trickled down her cheek as her bottom lip quivered a little.

She slowly wiped the tears as she let out a small sniffle, "What's the harm in trying one little shirt?"

"You mean besides annihilating my dignity and pride in a heartbeat?"

"Who needs dignity and pride anyways...?"

"Who...who..." he grunted as his eyes hardened as the blundering idiot started to rear its ugly head again.

"...When you have me?"

His eyes softened as he felt himself become pulled into her con. "No sane man would ever wear this!" He waved it in front of her.

"Please," she said, dragging out the word, "we both know you're way beyond just cuckoo for Coco Puffs."

Sylar let out a chuckle as he pulled the shirt over her head and then laced her arms through the sleeves. He smiled as he shook his head, "You're right, it would look great on me." Before he could stop himself he kissed her forehead before going to the pile of clothes. Silently thanking whatever God still cared about him that she didn't freak out. "Let's get out of here." He grabbed all the clothes Claire choose for him...them...or was it only for her? He wasn't sure.

"Claire, honey," Sandra pulled her daughter's attention away from Sylar. "What was that all..." She broke into laughter when she noticed Claire wearing a navy blue t-shirt with Papa Smurf on it. The caption read, _Who's your Papa?_ "I see."

"I almost had him too!" she pouted, crossed her arms, and stomped her foot. It reminded Sandra of Claire's first day of school when she didn't want to go inside.

"I'm sure you did dear." Her tone implied that she didn't believe her.

"Not in your lifetime," Sylar interrupted as he walked past them to pay for the purchases. He buttoned the next two buttons and gave the price tag to the sales associate who was trying hard to suppress her laugh. Sylar would usually be annoyed but right then, but he was just grateful to be out of Lyle's way too tight shirt. "We'll take the Smurf shirt too," he gestured to Claire with his thumb.

"Of course, sir," she said a sly smile. "You know, they are buy-one-get-one-half-off. You and your girlfriend could be matchy-matchy."

"Oh, Sylar!" Claire's eyes light up. It didn't seem to faze either one of them of the sales associate's assumption of their relationship. It did however cause Sandra to worry, as they tended to gravitate towards each other.

"You know, as tempting as your offer is—no really—I think I'm going to pass...I'm rather attached to my dignity, pride, and individualism," he listed it off with his fingers. "But thank you for the _kind_ offer—Ow!" He turned towards the small blonde who had smacked him on the shoulder. "What was that for?"

"You insensitive JERK!" She turned around and stormed out of the store with Sandra closely behind her.

Sylar sighed as he looked back at the associate, "So about that special."

Sandra caught up with her daughter at the park bench across the street from the store and near the car. She was hunched over with tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. Sandra wrapped her arms around Claire and pulled her close.

Claire inhaled deeply and jerked two feet away from Sandra, who almost succeeded in hiding the pain of Claire's rejection. "It's okay, honey."

"No, it's _not_!" She inhaled deeply and hoped for soothing smells to invade her nostrils. "I'm crying _over_ Sylar of all people because he wouldn't put on a stupid shirt!" Her hand wiped away more tears. She couldn't figure out why she was so angry over something so trivial. Sylar was so unSylar-like by being so agreeable. She loved and craved the control he had given her freely and to have him listen to her. It gave her confidence and control again. Something Danko quickly ripped away from her. When Sylar denied her, she felt rejected and that she lost some of that control as her brain didn't process that he was saying no to the shirt and not to her. "It's _just_ Sylar and it's _just _a stupid shirt! I shouldn't be—" Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the approaching man.

Sandra was taken aback at Claire's goofy grin. She turned her head to see Sylar crossing the street with a duffle bag, and wearing a dark gray t-shirt with a dazed Brainy Smurf on it that said _I'm Smurfed_ with a long, white john shirt underneath and his aviators.

Sylar ignored Claire's gaze as he threw the duffle bag containing the new clothes in the trunk. After closing the trunk, he turned around and was greeted by Claire slamming into his body as she wrapped her arms around him. When she pulled away, he swore his heart missed a few beats at her bright smile. "It was nothing," he quickly dismissed as he pulled away from her. He reached into his back pocket and handed Claire the CD he had thrown out the window. When he saw how upset she was he used his telekinesis to retrieve it while she was sulking next to him.

She was stunned and confused. "How...?"

"Do you really think I'd throw away something that brought a smile to that face of yours?"

"In a heartbeat," she deadpanned.

He paused to pretend to think about it, "True, but not today."

Claire smiled at his willingness to swallow his pride for her. It had to be extremely hard for him because Sylar was very full of himself. She stood tall on her tiptoes and reached with her left hand to the back of his neck. With minimal pressure, pulled his face closer to hers and gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," he shrugged it off as much; he didn't want her to continue to remind him how much of a push-over she's turning him into.

Claire rolled her eyes as she changed the subject, "So why you pick that one?"

"I figured it was the closest one to _I'm fuc_—" His sentence was cut off by her hand over his mouth.

"My mother is standing three feet from you!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed. His reply was mumbled in her hand, "What?" and she removed it to hear what he has to say.

"So?" he challenged. "She's a grown woman, I'm sure she's heard that word before. Hell, she's probably said it."

"She hates that word."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded her head. "You have to put a quarter in the swear jar."

Sandra closed the distance between them and herself, "What about the swear jar?" Sylar handed her a twenty-dollar bill. "What's this for?"

"A credit to my account."

"For?"

"The next 79 uses of the word fuck," he said casually as he opened the door to whoever was going to sit in the back seat. He watched an amused Sandra slide into it. "Let me know when I need to add more to the jar."

"Will do."

Claire stalked and hit his arm as he closed Sandra's door.

"What the hell?"

"Pompous jackass!"

"Is that a quarter?"

"Only when you say fu...you know the word."

"No, I'm not sure I know what 'f' word you're referring to," he teased as he opened Claire's door. "There are thousands of words that being with the letter 'f.' I think you're going to have to narrow it down for me."

"You don't know what word I'm referring to than the Pope is an atheist." She slid into the car.

"The Pope's an atheist!" Sylar said in mock surprise, "Holy shit! Talk about a walking hypocrite!" He bent over and looked around before he whispered, "Does the rest of the world know of his duplicity?"

Claire glared as she shoved him then slammed the door shut.

"I'll be right back, ladies," Sylar informed them as he disappeared into the pharmacy, but not before sealing the car shut with his telekinesis.

"What is he doing?" Sandra inquired.

"Don't know," Claire shrugged and nodded her head. "I've given up trying to understand him."

Sylar returned within a few minutes and climbed into the driver's seat. He turned back towards Sandra and handed her a brown paper bag. "I hope it helps. We'll behave if you want to get some sleep."

Claire and Sandra had matching furrowed faces at his cryptic language. Sandra opened the bag and looked inside. She pulled out earplugs, an eye mask used to keep the sun out, water, Migraine medicine, and Ibuprofen. Her headache; he remembered and went out of his way for her comfort. In her peripheral vision, she saw Claire reach over and squeeze his hand with grateful smile on her face, "Thank you."

"It was nothing." He put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road.

She looked at the man behind the wheel and wondered what the hell happened to the self-serving bastard she knew a few short years ago.

* * *

_Costa Verde_

"What do you mean nothing?" Noah exclaimed.

"There is nothing here that tells us who were here or where they are going!"

"Look at my home; it's trashed!" Noah waved around. "Either it was Sylar or Danko."

"If Sylar is truly back, then he probably has my ability."

"How could Sylar have your ability?" Peter asked. "He kills to obtain them and besides..."

"Well he was able to get Elle's power without _killing_ her, right, Noah?"

"Parkman." The threat to back down was in his tone.

"We need to focus," Angela said.

"Sylar did this, I know it!" Noah pointed out.

"Why?" Matt asked.

"Am I the only one who remembers watching his _dead_ body burn?" Peter asked but was ignored by both Matt and Noah.

"What do you mean why? He's a sick bastard…" Noah stated.

"He already had Claire," Matt pointed out, cutting off Noah's rant, "which means he had no reason to be here or do this."

"Claire was the reason," Peter said.

"What?" Matt frowned.

"Let's go with the theory that Sylar somehow survived the fire." Peter said loudly to get the attention back onto him. He didn't understand why they were even wasting time on this. Sylar was dead and Claire was missing.

"_Jesus, are they ever going to tell Peter the truth?"_ Matt wondered as Angela and Noah continued to keep the secret of Sylar's 'death' to themselves.

"Claire is the reason he took her home. Danko would have used Sandra..."

"Like Sylar would care about Claire's needs..." Angela tried to interject.

Peter sat down rubbing his temples. He didn't understand this line of thinking. Sylar was dead. Unless…someone wasn't telling him something important; but why would they lie about this? If Sylar was alive, it made no sense that his mother and Noah would lie about it. Plus the lack of Sylar-like killings ended when he died.

Matt shook his head as he observed Angela and Noah's firm conviction that Sylar was nothing but a monster. He used to be like that, but that was before he let Sylar loose into the world to retrieve Claire. There was no doubt in Matt's mind that Sylar _is_ a monster, but Matt could feel another side of Sylar. A side that Claire's kidnapping brought out of him. He just hoped that this budding new side wasn't as gruesome as the one they already knew.

"I highly doubt that adding my demanding wife to the equation…"

"Look, you're neighbors remembered seeing Sandra get into a cab alone, right?" Peter asked as he was once again silenced by the trio in front of him.

"You're point?" Noah demanded.

"Maybe Sylar let Claire call her to warn her and…" Matt tried to explain but was cut off by Noah.

"Impossible! She would have called me to let us know she heard from Claire."

"What about Lyle?" Matt asked.

"What about my son?"

"Isn't he due home soon from camp?"

Noah smiled. "Yes, that is where she was going and it explains why she didn't call me. She wasn't home when whatever bastard broke in."

"That makes sense," Matt agreed as he tried to figure out a way to buy Sylar more time. He wasn't sure how to do that, now that the truth is out there. Matt only hoped Sandra was on her way to Lyle or Sylar had her. Because God help her if Danko managed to beat them here and took her.

"I do have one question though," Peter said as he noticed the absence of someone important.

"What is it, Peter?" Angela asked.

"Where's Nathan?"

Noah and Angela exchanged silent looks as Matt rolled his eyes, for he knew that she was going to open her mouth to spew out yet another lie.

"This is completely ridiculous..."

"Parkman," Noah threatened. "We can take care of that problem."

"Do you honestly think Sylar's going to let me do that to him? ..._Again_?"

"This is my family!" Angela warned.

"Then tell him the truth and stop all these fucking lies!"

"Tell me the truth about what?" Peter asked as he noticed for the first time that his mother was wearing her lie-face—the one she used to play the part of the doting wife.

"Focus, Peter," Angela tried to divert his attention from discovering the truth about his brother.

"We need to find Claire…"

"What about Nathan? There is no way he'd be missing this long with Claire kidnapped!" Peter's interjection was met with silence. "Tell me!" He looked around at the stone faces of his mother and Noah and knew that they would not tell him. He looked at Matt who appeared more accommodating. "Matt."

"Three years…"

"Don't you dare, Parkman!" Angela yelled. "This is my family you're destroying!"

"You already did that when you asked me to do what I did! I never should have agreed to it!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Peter demanded. And Matt told him what truly happened to his brother and how he was forced to make Sylar believe he was Nathan, though he left out the part where he brought Sylar back to the surface and is now his lackey. The truth was overwhelming and shattered the very core that left Peter longing for the days when he was bathed in ignorance.

Angela tried to comfort her son but was rejected at every attempt. She watched his emotional breakdown and promises of revenge against Sylar. Peter looked at her as if she was dead, for that is what she is to him now. This betrayal was too much to forgive and would never be forgotten.

Memories of these past three years bombarded his consciousness. All the times that Nathan kept his distance to make sure Peter didn't touch him...It was to keep him from the truth. Sylar enslaved in Nathan's form when Peter borrowed his shape-shifting ability. It was what gave Matt the opportunity to do his mother's dirty work. He couldn't blame Matt, who was just trying to protect his family from Angela. Most of all, Peter blamed himself for not seeing it. Nathan might have been physically distant, but he made up for it with the emotional connection they were making. He felt like his brother for the first time in a long time; before Nathan went into politics and sold him out to save his face with his voters. And now, he knew that it was all a lie. Peter reeled in his emotions and saved his anger for another day; right now, it was about Claire and having her saved. "It's still about Claire. We need to get her back from whichever monster has her. Then I will make Sylar pay for killing my brother."

* * *

_Near Melstone, Montana_

Sylar's head bopped up and down as tried to stay awake. The car swerved a little as exhaustion started to take over him. A hand squeezed his forearm and his gaze followed from her hand to her face. "Are you hungry?" He didn't know why he asked. Her answer was always no as he had to coax her to eat something at every meal.

"No," she said, softly confirming his inner thoughts, "but you're sleepy."

Sylar put his arm around Claire and pulled her close. He wanted to kiss the top of her head, but restrained himself. It wasn't his place. "You should get some rest then." In his fatigue and her soft tone, he misheard her.

"Sylar..."

"Get comfortable. I'll keep watch."

"Pull over, please." She leaned back and waited for his undivided attention.

Sandra woke up when she felt the car stop. She pulled up the eye mask Sylar had given her and saw said man put his hand on Claire's face as he looked her over. Panic raced through Sandra's heart as she wondered if something happened to Claire.

Claire took his hand from her face and held it with one hand as she combed her fingers through his hair with her other. "You're exhausted."

"I can't stop until we reach our destination." He tried to hide his yawn by pretending to rub his nose.

"You're exhausted," she said again as she rested her hand on his cheek. "You need to sleep before you crash into something."

"I can't stop. Not yet."

"Then I'll drive while you sleep." She dropped her hand from his face.

Sylar shook his head, "The map is in my head. I'd still have to navigate, so you should rest."

"I'm worried about you. I know we're invincible, but my mother isn't."

"I'm being careful."

"Please, Sylar." She could see the struggle on his face. "You haven't slept in three days."

He snorted and he rubbed a hand over the rough stubble on his cheek. He hadn't slept in over six weeks.

"And if we get into an accident, my mother might not walk away from it." Claire could see his stubbornness was refusing to give in as she tried to use logic he would agree with. "That will slow us down, so if you think about it, by stopping for the night we are potentially saving us time in the long run." She was about to give up. Sylar wasn't stopping until he was ready. _Stubborn ass,_ she thought to herself as she missed his smile when he read her thought.

As the car pulled back onto the road, she turned to look out the window and wished she knew how to make him change him mind. It was when the car swerved a little again that she looked back over at him, "Sylar..."

"I'm fine."

Claire looked at him with the distress seen clearly on her face. She said two words that alone held no significance, but in the years to come, she would realize it gave her great power over Sylar; these two tiny words would cause him to bend to her every whim, no matter if it was logically sound or not: "For me?"

After a long sigh, he responded with an "Okay," as he started looking for a place to stay for tonight when the next town came into the horizon. Sylar pulled into the more expensive-looking hotel and got two rooms with an adjoining door, more for Sandra's sake than Claire's.

Sandra put her arm around Claire and pulled her close. She smiled when Claire buried her head in her shoulder. Sandra felt like they were making progress. She pulled her tighter, when Claire started to tremble.

Claire opened her eyes and saw Danko come up behind her mother. She jerked away from Sandra. "SYLAR!" she screamed.

Sylar turned around just in time to feel her slam into him. He mumbled, "Fuck," when his body hit the door from the momentum of Claire's bone-crushing hug. Her thoughts about Danko bombarded his mind.

"He's here!"

In a blink of an eye, Sandra and Claire were in a hotel room. The last thing either of them saw was Sylar in a defensive stance as his searched for his prey. Sandra pulled her daughter close and rubbed her back. "Sylar won't let anything happen to us," she whispered and hoped her words would be true. She knew she'd give her life to protect her daughter, but she also knew she had no way to defend either of them if Danko walked through that door.

Claire inhaled deeply and opened her eyes to a male chest. She tried to pull away but he held her close.

"_Stop moving bitch," Danko ordered. "It's time to play another game."_

Her body went completely ridged as she was once again under the frightening spell of Danko. She gathered all of her energy and in a brave attempt, she shoved her nightmare away from her and screamed for the name of the one man who would make everything better.

Sandra was taken by surprise when she was pushed away as her hysterical daughter screamed for the killer beyond the door. Sylar was already in the room before she finished saying his name. Sandra watched him make a quick sweep of the room as the door slammed shut behind him. The chain lock moved itself securely in place. Two quick strides and _that monster_ had her daughter wrapped securely in his embrace as Claire tried desperately to mold her body into his.

"It's okay," he said in a slow gentle tone. "You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

Claire could hear her mother try to hold back the sting from her rejection, but she couldn't think of that right now. All she wanted to do was immerse herself in Sylar's scent and will the bad man away from her thoughts. As much as she loved her mother, she couldn't bring her comfort or give her hope that she would want her like she wants Sylar now. In this moment of time, she was selfish child. All she wanted to do was hold on to Sylar and the pleasant memories his aroma brought. She wanted to bathe daily in his scent to keep it on her at all times.

Sandra wanted to kill him. Okay, maybe "kill" was a little too harsh. But she wanted him gone so her daughter would be in her arms now. She felt his cold eyes on her and Claire let out a louder cry. _"Did I say it out loud?"_ The thoughts grew from a place of jealousy. Her daughter cried out twice for the man who tortured her. The second rejection hurt the most: when Claire shoved her away for Sylar. Sandra watched helplessly as Claire pulled away from _that man._ She watched as he carefully wiped away her tears. _"That should be me she's holding on tight to and I should be the one wiping away her tears."_

After a few minutes, Sylar helped Claire up before retrieving their bags from outside. He placed the ladies bag onto one of the beds before unlocking the adjoining doors. "Please keep the doors open at all times," he asked before disappearing into the other room.

Claire searched the bag for her pajamas. She pulled out what her mother packed and nodded her head in disapproval. They were too tight, too short, and too revealing. She wanted to drown in his clothes to hide her body. It wasn't Sandra's fault. Two months ago, she wouldn't have a problem wearing these items. She really wanted to change out of Sylar's clothes only because they didn't smell like him anymore.

"Is everything okay?" Sandra asked.

"They're too small," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Sandra said. "I should have grabbed your brother's clothes." Sandra didn't know why she apologized or why Claire's clothes were too small. If anything, she looked like she lost weight, not gained it.

"It's okay, I'll make do..." Claire's eyes lit up as she looked at the adjoining doors. "I'll be right back." She briskly walked through the door and searched for Sylar. He was lying on the bed with his eyes closed. He was still wearing his Smurf shirt with the long john shirt underneath but now wearing blue boxer briefs. The gray pajama pants were in his hand. Claire covered her mouth to silence her laughter, noting that he fell asleep dressing himself. She looked back at her mother who was busying herself and knew she would not find this sight as humorous as her daughter would. Claire tiptoed to wake him but was startled when his eyes snapped open.

"What is with your fixation in watching me sleep? Or is it that I'm sleeping half-naked that is holding your attention?"

"Shush!" she chided before turning away from him, "I should inquire about your obsession with me seeing you half-naked."

"Hey, you're the one that kept looking," he smiled as he pulled up his pants. "What can I do for you?"

"I need sleepwear; the clothes I have from you are getting a little stinky." She scrunched her nose to add to her statement.

"How is it my problem you stunk up my clothes?"

"HEY!" She whipped around and slapped his shoulder. He held his hands up in surrender as he noticed how uncomfortable she looked.

"Didn't Sandra bring you clothes?"

She looked at her feet as she whispered, "Mine are too small."

"Help yourself," he said as he gestured to the bag behind him with his thumb.

"Well, you did buy them for me since I'm lacking in the clothes department." She moved past him to search through the bag.

"Of course I did, dear," he said sarcastically, "I must have misheard you when you told me today at the store that _I _was in dire need of clothes. Hell, I even went as far as thinking that I was the one who only had one set of clothes...that I shared with you. I must have forgotten my bag at your mother's home and was walking around in_ your_ jeans for the past three days."

"I hope you learned your lesson on that one buddy," she responded as she grabbed a pair of his pants and looked back at him.

"What?"

She stalked towards and him and grabbed the hem of his shirts, "Give me."

"How about a 'please?'" He retorted, even though he knew he'd give them to regardless.

She started to pull it halfway up before she muttered, "Please," then took it completely off. She buried her face in it, inhaling the scent that brought a calming sensation over her. "Thank you," she whispered with a grin.

He just shrugged as his eyes followed her into his bathroom to change. He looked at the open adjoining doors and caught Sandra's glare before she turned away from the door. Sylar wondered why Claire is avoiding her mother especially when she was so frantic to be with her again. "_As that blonde on _Scooby Doo _would say,_ '_We've got a mystery to solve.' ...Great, now she has me quoting a kid's cartoon!"_ He put on a new shirt to wear to bed to make the ladies feel more comfortable. Claire exited the bathroom drowning in his shirts and holding up his pants. She looked ridiculous but cute all at the same time. Sylar shook his head to will these thoughts away.

She felt uncomfortable under his intense gaze. Her heart started to beat faster as she waited for him to hurt her. "Is something wrong?" she asked in a small voice as if she was waited for him to punish her.

"Just wondering how you expect my pants to stay up."

"I was thinking the same thing," she said with a smile as her heart beat slowed down. She had to remind herself that this version of Sylar wasn't Danko. He didn't hurt her for his own sick amusement. This Sylar doesn't punish her for God only knows why. "I might have to change into mine."

Sylar didn't comment and could hear from her thoughts that she was grateful. Relived that he wasn't Danko and he wasn't going to abuse her for entertainment. He also knew it was never about her clothes not fitting, they just fit too well; she wanted to hide her figure in bigger clothes to make herself less appealing to the world. He empathized but couldn't understand. His innocence was never ripped from him like hers was. Danko used other men to steal her virginity. It was tore away from her and because of her ability; the only scars that remain are the emotional and soulful ones. Oh God, he really wanted to kill Danko, slowly and painfully. "We'll have to invest in suspenders or something since you lost all that weight."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"What? No!"

"So you think I was fat?"

"I didn't..." He caught her evil grin and threw a pillow at her. "Be gone."

She laughed as she easily dodged the pillow. "Good night, Sylar."

"Good night, dear," he whispered. "I'm here if you need anything."

"I know." She walked into the room and wished her mother a good night. She crawled into bed and silently wished and feared that her mother would join her. She did. Claire inhaled deeply as she started counting sheep in her head. _Why was it easier to fall asleep next to Sylar?_ After forty-five minutes, her body slowly fell into a restless sleep.

_Claire could smell the overwhelming scent of jasmine in the air before she opened her eyes. She was tied to a bed. Danko was talking to three men and before him was a video camera. Her ears just registered the sickly porno music in the background. She looked down at her tattered clothes and remembered how they were torn. In part one of his _**movie**_,_ _those three men kidnapped her and ripped her clothing. The next part was...was...oh god, this wasn't supposed to happen to her. This wasn't supposed to happen like this. She used to imagine it in her head, the several different times and ways she'd lose her virginity. She was supposed to feel awkward and nervous at her inexperience. She would look in his eyes and see some emotion that was too powerful to put into words. And in that moment, she knew it would be right. The special moment she waited a lifetime for, with the one who she loved from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Her first time was suppose to be magical, something that would connect their souls forever. Because she gave this man her most treasured possession, something she could only give to one person._

_Claire wiped away her tears as Danko started playing with the camera and the men took their places. She couldn't move an inch. The crippling fear of Danko's presence took care of that._

"_Remember guys," Danko reminded, "this bitch likes to stay in character until the job is done. So don't take what she says to heart. She's just acting."_

"_Okay," soon to be rapist number one told him as the other two nodded._

_As soon as one touched her, her body went into fight mode as her legs thrashed and she clawed whatever skin he made contact with. She had to protect her virginity at any cost. She just prayed to God that one of the idiots would accidentally kill her, then her first time would be saved. She could still sit at her kitchen table and have that embarrassing sex talk with her mother like she promised her all those years ago. As she felt her shorts being torn from her body, she screamed. This wasn't supposed to be her first sexual experience. This wasn't supposed to be like this. This isn't what she had imagined. But then again, what young woman imagines her first time to be a gang rape?_

_One of the men grabbed her hands and pulled her to him. As he placed a bruising kiss on her mouth, all she wanted to do was throw up. The air reeked of cheap whiskey, beer, testosterone, and jasmine._

Sandra pulled her wailing daughter to her body. Claire shoved her mother so hard that Sandra fell off the bed. She scrambled to wake her daughter and every time she grabbed her, Claire would claw at her. Sandra felt two hands wrap around her arms and pick her up. "Put me down, Sylar!" she ordered.

Sylar set her behind him. "Shush!" he ordered before focusing on Claire.

"You son of…" her sentence was cut off as Sylar took control of her body.

"I said _shush_!" Sylar's eyes never left Claire as she thrashed around the bed. Her vivid nightmare assaulted his mind as he sat on the bed beside her. "Claire, it's me. You're dreaming. You're safe."

_Claire opened her eyes and the room was empty. Danko and his band of rapists were gone along with the camera._

"_I'm here. You're safe. You're safe with me and your mother."_

"_Where are you?" she asked to the empty room._

"_Open your eyes."_

Claire opened her eyes and met his concerned milk chocolate eyes. Eyes that gave the telltale sign that he knew what her nightmare was all about. She looked around the room and glanced briefly at her mother's rigid form before locking eyes on Sylar. "Is it really you?"

"I promise," he said as Claire crawled into body.

She inhaled deeply and knew that scent. It was Sylar. This is real. He was real. She was safe once again from her own personal hell.

Sylar leaned back against the bed taking her with him. He rubbed her back and stroked her hair as he whispered reassurances in her ear while Claire grieved the death of something so precious to her.

Sandra was fuming. That man had taken away her own control of her body and is now subjecting her to this. It should be her. Claire needs her mother, not that monster.

"You're mom's here," he told her, "and she's worried about you. Can she sit with you?"

As soon as she nodded yes, Sandra felt her body's release from Sylar's control. She hurried to the bed. "Baby girl."

"Mommy!" she whispered in a child like tone. She threw herself into her mother's embrace as the tears flooded from her eyes.

"There, there, my sweet child." She ran her fingers through Claire's locks. "Mommy's here."

Claire wiped the snot from her running nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

_She was lying helplessly on the bed as the man who tore her shorts away had completed unbuttoning his jeans. He pulled them down along with his boxers as he crawled towards her. Her eyes widened at the size of him and hoped to God that that was going into one of the men and not her. Claire let out an ear-piercing scream as the man roughly forced himself inside of her. Tears ran from her eyes as a single thought raced through her mind, 'This isn't how it was supposed to happen.'_

"Claire," Sylar said as he watched her struggle against Sandra. "Claire, listen to my voice, come back to me. Today is October 11th. You're in Melsone, Montana. You're with Sylar and your mother. You're safe with us. Come back to us. We're in a hotel room with your mother. He not with us. I saved you remember. Today is October 11th. Come back to me Claire."

"_Claire," the voice said again before it ordered her captive to let her go. It sounded so familiar to her. "It's October 11__th__ Claire, come back to me." October. That didn't make sense. No it was September. Classes had just started when he took her. She felt her body being pulled against someone's chest. The person wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed the crown of her head. "Claire, its Sylar. Find my voice, come back to me."_

_Sylar. It was his voice. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Sylar!" she whispered as she tried to will her body to mold into his and let his scent fill her senses._

Sylar held on tightly to Claire and mouthed his apologies to Sandra. Claire's reaction to Sandra didn't make sense. He had to figure out the reason why to fix the rift that was forming between Claire and Sandra. "I need you to focus on my voice, Claire. You're safe. You're with me. He doesn't have you anymore. You're safe. Come back to me."

"Sylar," a tiny voice whispered.

"I'm here."

"Don't ever leave me." The desperation laced her tone as she held on tighter to him. The old her would have screamed at herself for frantically clinging onto the man that damaged her, but he was the only thing that was keeping the memories away...the ones she couldn't bear to relive.

"I'm here until you tell me to fuck off and I'll even pay the quarter you'll owe to the jar as well."

She let out a small laugh. "Good, because I plan on keeping you for a while."

"I can live with that."

"_Well, I can't,"_ Sandra thought. He didn't have control of her body, but she couldn't bring herself to try and touch Claire again. _"What did that bastard do to her that she is so repulsed by me?"_

"I want your pillow," Claire announced as she pulled away from Sylar.

"Excuse me?" he asked her retreating form.

"Your pillow. I want it," she told him again and looked at him like he was crazy for not knowing why.

Sandra watched him follow Claire out of the room. She quickly retrieved her mobile phone from her purse to text Noah, _"I'm with Sylar and Claire in Melstone, Montana. Come quick, Noah, before he hurts us. We need you."_ She was about to hit 'send' when it flew out of her hands and into Sylar's.

After viewing the message, he glared at Sandra as he melted her phone in his hands. "Why would you do this?" He dropped her unusable phone in the garbage.

"It's not healthy. She shouldn't want you over me."

"I'm going to figure that one out, Sandra," Sylar said, "because I know her reaction to you is abnormal. All she talked about was coming home to you and basking in the security of your embrace."

"Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Six weeks, three days, twelve hours, and thirty-seven minutes."

"I don't know what you're trying to say Sylar so just spit it out." The hatred she had for this man could be heard in her tone.

"Danko," Sylar took a deep breath to control his anger and hatred of that man, "had her for 43,545,637 minutes Sandra. That is a fucking long time and we are barely scraping the iceberg of the effects of what he did to her. So my point is, dear Sandra that we don't know what he did to her."

"So..."

"I only know two things. The first is that he intended to destroy your daughter beyond repair."

Her breath got caught in her throat, "And the second?"

"The second thing is that Danko is always at least five steps ahead of Bennett and he knows Bennett's every move."

"Even after you injured him?"

"Danko trashed your home looking for you or any clues to lead him to Claire."

"Oh my God," she said as she sat down on the bed. Her strength was leaving her as her brain tried to process the information. She never once wondered how he knew that piece of information.

"Even after injuring him pretty good, he still beat Noah to your home. He still had the stamina to trash it. Most importantly, there is a high probability that he is trailing Noah, knowing that you'll contact him and lead him straight to Claire. That is why I asked you to keep Noah in the dark. It had nothing to do with me and my issues with Bennett and everything to do with Claire."

"Let's call Noah; get Danko now."

"Where you even listening to me?" he accused her, "I'm not even close to ready..."

Sandra snorted, "You're always ready with five backup plans…"

"Claire's not safe, therefore _I am not ready_. I will set a trap for the fucking weasel and then I will send him running." He sighed. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but trust Claire. I'm going to keep her safe and I'm going after Danko as well. But first..."

"Claire needs to be safe."

"Does she look safe to you?" He gestured around the hotel room.

Sandra looked through the doors at her daughter sleeping with her nose buried in the pillow and cocooned in his blankets. "Yes," she whispered to herself as she admitted it to herself. "_How was it possible that this _thing _is keeping her safe?"_

Sylar heard her and chose not to respond. "Claire's asleep," he said, changing the subject. "I figured you'd want to crash in there with her."

"No."

"And I'll stay…" he stopped mid-sentence and frowned at her, "did you say no?"

"She doesn't want me."

"She will _always_ want you," he countered without hesitation.

"Not tonight, she doesn't." She watched her daughter sleeping. "She wants you."

"She doesn't want me."

"She's as happy as a clam in your bed, Sylar. She wants you tonight and I have to be okay with it, because like you said before, it's all about Claire." She heard him sigh and watched him sit down on the adjacent bed. "Go," she told him again. "I'll be fine as long as my baby is fine."

Sylar sighed again before standing. He stopped by her and rested what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I will figure this out and I will make _that man_ pay for what he did to your daughter. I promise you that with every fiber of my being."

"Why?" She couldn't understand why someone as morally corrupted as Sylar would care so much.

"Because, I may be the devil incarnated, but even I know that what he did was unthinkable and deserves to be punished." He squeezed her shoulder gently before releasing her. "Good night."

"Good night."

He hesitated at the door, "Can you sleep in that bed tonight?" he asked as he pointed to the one farthest from the door.

"Why?"

"If anything gets through the door I want them to have to cross my path before they get to you," he explained to her. "Not that I'm excepting anything tonight, but with Danko out there somewhere, I'm going to be overly-cautious until I can pinpoint his exact location."

"Sure." Sandra got up and climbed into the bed that her daughter had been sleeping in...Was it really only twenty minutes ago?

Sylar sat on the bed across from a wide-eyed Claire. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I tried, but I'm afraid that I'll dream about him again."

"You're safe here. I promise."

"I know." She had faith in his ability to keep Danko away from her, but every time she closed her eyes, she was back in that sleazy motel room. Even after she buried her face in his pillow, the faint smell of him couldn't keep the mad man away. "Can I ask you to do something for me?"

"I'll do anything for you."

"Hold me," she requested quietly. "Hold me as tight as possible and never let go."

"I can do that," he told her as she made room for him on the bed. Sylar noticed that she made sure he was between her and the doors; like she knew he'd want to be. He laid down next to her and pulled Claire into a tight embrace. She buried her face in his chest and inhaled his scent deeply. Within a minute, Claire was cocooned safely in Sylar's arms, fast asleep.


	11. Outside Looking In Part 2

Special thanks again to Darned4AllEternity for being patient with me and brave enough to edit this chapter as well! Like I said before, it's the beta that makes me look good ;)

* * *

**Chapter 11 Outside Looking In Part 2**

_Friday_

Sylar wanted to repeatedly punch his fist into the wall to alleviate the tension in his body. Three days of Sandra's hostility, her verbal jabs, and fake pleasantries around Claire wore him thin. When they finally arrived in Junction City, KS; she complained about the two-bedroom suite. She bitched to him that Claire continued to crawl into _his _bed every night and not hers. He tried to be the prim and proper gentleman Virginia Gray raised him to be by sleeping on the couch and give Claire the other room. But she would rather be squished on the couch with him than with Sandra or by herself. He moved them to Claire's room to give them both space so he wouldn't have to wake up to Sandra scowling at the fact that Claire was on top of him. Couches were not meant for two people to sleep on at night, especially when one is longer than the couch. How was he to be blamed for Claire's need to melt into him when she slept? She wanted to be as close as possible; she needed it for her sanity. How could Sandra expect him to deny Claire something so small that kept her sanity intact?

More importantly, how was _any of this _**_his _**fault? It wasn't _his _fault that men seemed to gravitate towards Claire, making her push herself closer to Sylar for protection. Sandra should be giving him a fucking medal for not killing each and every one of them for the damage their mere presence was doing to Claire. It wasn't _his _fault Claire responded poorly when Sandra treated her like a child when it came to meal times. How it was _his _fault Claire would rather be treated like an adult and negotiates with Sylar items of his clothing for every meal she eats? That girl has seen more of his skin in the past week than he's sure his mother had ever seen in his whole life. But he doesn't care because Claire's eating without protest. Sandra should be grateful that Claire is eating three square meals a day at the mere cost of the clothes literally off his back. Speaking of his clothes, he really wanted to change out of the sticky clothes he was wearing thanks to Claire dumping her root beer float on him when he refused to... "_God, has she been babbling for fifteen minutes now?" _He stood there completely dumbfounded as he could not recall seeing her stop to breathe.

The killer inside of him wanted to kill Sandra. The logical side of him wanted to grab Claire and get the hell away from the biggest pain in the ass he had ever met. Especially since he caught her trying to contact Bennett again! How hard is it to comprehend that Danko was lurking in the shadows and most likely waiting for Noah to send him straight to Claire! That piece of information made the logical side want to kill her as well and make it look like an accident or pin it on Danko so he would avoid persecution for it. But it was the irrational side of him that won the debate with one name: _Claire_. She needed her mother and he would tolerate Sandra as long as he had to, but not a millisecond longer than needed. Speaking of the annoying little bitch, her rant seemed to be coming to an end. In all fairness to Sandra, Claire could have had more class when she announced, _"I married Sylar" _to explain their matching wedding bands before leaving him to deal with the aftermath while she showered to wash out the ice cream he smeared in her hair. It was only a fair retribution for the root beer float incident. He smiled at the memory which only set Sandra off about him getting some sick pleasure out of Claire's situation. Oh, did he really want to kill her now... But he chose the safe option of changing his clothes.

Sandra had followed him into his bedroom as he changed his shirt. His nose picked up the faint scent of jasmine on his shirt and figured Sandra has had the laundry done this morning. He briefly pondered if this girly shit-scent on his clothes was her way to take a jab at his manhood before he dismissed it. Sylar rolled his eyes at her antics—couldn't she stop whining at him for two seconds so he could change his clothes? He wanted to be out of these damn jeans but wasn't about to drop them in front of her either. He knew she wouldn't get the hint if he started to take them off. She'd probably slap him and call him a pervert. _"Oh Lord, please say you created this one with an off button."_

"...you perverted—"

"I would really appreciate it, if you'd refrain from speaking so that I can explain—"

"Explain what! How you managed to weasel yourself into my daughter's life! How you manipulated her—"

"It was her idea!" he yelled and then wished he could reach out and pull those words back into his mouth when he observed her reaction.

"Really!" she snorted in disbelief. "The way I see it, it is _you _who takes advantage of her unhealthy attach—"

"It's not..." He grunted. _"I could just take control of her body and permanently seal her mouth shut."_

"Damn right it's not going to last! I'm going to call Noah and then have this sham of a marriage annulled." She grabbed the hotel phone but Sylar quickly took it from her and slammed it back down.

"There's nothing to annul!"

"Oh please," she said in disbelief. "If you really think I'm going to sit by and watch—"

"If you'd shut your mouth for two fucking seconds to listen—"

"You have another thing coming!"

"We're not married!" he yelled over her.

"What?" she said as she finally listened to him. "But Claire—"

"Claire needs to work on using more words to explain herself—"

"What—"

"Do not cut me off again with your insolent chatter," he threatened her. Sandra, for once, obeyed. "We're not married. Claire was tired of the attention she was getting from males. She started introducing me as her husband and they backed off. One little prick pointed out our naked fingers. Claire wanted to rectify that situation with matching bands." He waved his left hand at her. "That's all it is. So this idiotic tantrum of yours can end _now_."

"And the emerald engagement ring?"

"What wife doesn't have an engagement ring as well? You know the whole 'first comes love, then comes marriage' part of that lame ass children's song," he explained as he silently wished she would lose the ability to speak all on her own. Sure, the emerald might have been too much, but it was for Claire. He wanted to give her a ring as unique and special as her. Diamonds were common and one thing Claire Bennet would never be was common. "The logical thing to do would be—"

"And you can't deny her anything can you?" she snapped at him.

"I wanted to make her feel better and safe—"

"So you purchase _the _most expensive jewel in the planet for her!" she spoke over him. How could that buffoon not see that he made her more of a target by that jewel? What was it about her daughter that made him so stupid?

"And if wearing a wedding ring does it, well..." he continued to say before she cut him completely off.

"You're unbelievable if you think I'm going—"

"She's having a hard time dealing with all of this!" he said forcefully in hopes to stop her interruptions. He longed for the days when she was terrified of him. "He's with her wherever we go."

"How is that my fault?" Sandra inquired.

"Do you see me throwing stones?" he retorted. "No, you don't! So get off my back, you insufferable—"

"SYLAR!" Claire screamed from the bathroom.

Sylar practically shoved Sandra out of the way so he could sprint to Claire. Sandra mumbled a few curse words as she caught herself from falling before she went after him. He reached Claire within a few seconds as she crashed into his body. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her pull away from him and went to Sandra. "What's wrong?" He couldn't follow her thoughts. It was all centered on Danko.

Sandra hugged Claire and didn't hide the massive grin on her face from Sylar. Claire had finally chosen _her _over him. Her victorious smile quickly faded when Claire forcibly shoved away from Sandra and went back to Sylar.

"What's going on?" Sylar asked frantically, since Claire has never acted like this to him before, as her breathing increased.

"He's here!" she tried to pull away from Sylar, but he kept her close.

Sylar took a few seconds to listen to his surroundings. No matter how obnoxious Sandra was, there would be no way in hell Danko would sneak up on him like that. There were only three heartbeats in the room. "He's not here Claire. It's me and your mother. You need to take deep breaths with me—"

"I smell him. He's everywhere."

Her sentence caught him off guard. He pulled away and grabbed her by the upper arms to look in her eyes. "Wait. What do you mean you _smell _him?"

"His stench is everywhere!" she screamed through her tears. Her breathing became more erratic.

Sylar let go of her with his left hand and pulled his shirt to his nose. He smelled the fragrance Sandra had requested for their laundry. He turned to Sandra and could smell her jasmine perfume. He pulled Claire close and leaned over to smell her shirt when he felt Sandra pull at him.

"Get away from her you dirty old pervert!" She put all her weight into her struggle.

"Back the fuck off!" he whispered harshly at her as he freed his arm and heard Sandra fall on her ass. He smelled Claire's shirt by the shoulder and had the faint scent of jasmine. That's when it finally clicked in his head. Jasmine was the source of Claire's negative reactions to Sandra's attempts to comfort her. Danko must have used her own mother's scent when he was...oh God. Every time Claire would be within smelling distance of her mother it would trigger those memories. Claire could never again seek shelter in her mother's warm embrace. In turn, it would cause a rift between Claire and her mother. Something Claire would never forgive herself for. Oh that sick bastard was good; Sylar himself would have never gone _that _extreme, even though he was believed to be the devil incarnate. Then what did that make Danko besides a sick and demented bastard? He quickly pulled off his shirt before taking Claire's off as well.

"What the hell are you doing!" Sandra shrieked as she failed to stop Sylar from his task at hand.

"Did you request a scented fabric softener for the clothes?"

"What does that have to do...?" She noticed Sylar holding Claire, who still resisted him.

"For once in your miserable existence could you not be a pain in the ass and _just_ answer damn the question!"

"Yes, the same softener I've used for years. I even got Claire the scented soap..." Sandra didn't know what the big deal was; Claire always loved her mother's fragrance. She used to tell Sandra how it brought her peace, being in her mother's arms, immersed in her scent; her embrace felt like home. When Sandra couldn't hold Claire to comfort her, she made it so that Claire could at least be engulfed in her favorite smell. That is why she requested the hotel to wash everything in the scents from Claire's childhood. Sandra just wanted Claire to feel at home, even when she was in that monster's arms.

Sylar smelled her hair then her skin. The fragrance was potent and lingered in his nose. "Shit!" He looked Claire in the eye. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she responded without any hesitation.

"We need to get you naked and back in that shower." Claire nodded as she started unzipping her pants and Sylar helped pull them down. She quickly stepped out of them as she stood almost-naked in her bra and panties.

"Stop it!" Sandra screamed as she tried to pull him away.

"It's your perfume, it's the fabric softener, it's the soap—it's _everything_!" he told her. "All that scented girly shit you have is killing her with memories of that bastard!"

"What?"

"It's your fragrance and that homey smell you brought into this suite," he repeated hoping she would catch on. When she tried to grab him again he turned around. "Danko used your scent, your perfume, whenever he _had _her," he whispered quickly. "One whiff from you and she's back in his clutches. That's why she has been pushing you away."

"Oh my God!" she covered her hands with her mouth. This whole time it was her fragrance, not her.

"Go shower and wait for me," he instructed Claire. "I'll have our clothes washed and try and find some that doesn't smell. Right now, we need to eliminate the stench!" Sylar didn't wait for her response. He pushed Claire into the bathroom, followed her in, and a few seconds later Sandra heard the shower.

Sandra went to the door to pull the bastard out only to find it locked. "That doesn't mean you to have to shower together!" she screamed bitterly as she pounded on the door. The door opened as Sylar pushed past her. She attempted to go into the bathroom to check on Claire only to find it slammed in her face. She tried to open it but couldn't. Sylar had sealed Claire in, keeping Sandra away from her own daughter...again! Sandra turned around and saw Sylar with an armful of clothes as he exited his and Claire's bedroom and headed towards Sandra's bedroom; the one where Claire _should _be sleeping in. "What are you doing?"

"Bell hop's coming to take the clothes to the laundry. They need to be washed with unscented soap."

"Why?" She noticed all the windows open with his invisible hands. She rubbed her arms as the cold air rushed into the suite.

"Why? Why do you think!" His face was full of surprise before he scowled at her, "Claire can't be in her own skin with that shit caked on her and you want to know _why_!" Sylar grabbed Sandra's clothes and went to answer the knock on the door. "I need these cleaned as soon as possible and the sheets in the master bedroom changed before bed tonight." He paused to remember that their bed was still a mess which means the sheets weren't washed today. _"Thank God for small favors," _he thought to himself.

"Yes sir," he said as he took the laundry bag and generous tip from Sylar. He gave Sylar a bag with the two sets of shampoo, conditioner, and soap he had requested.

Sandra looked at the toiletries Sylar gave her and blindly followed him, only to find the door slammed in her face again. She pounded on the door again for a few minutes before she gave up and went to shower. The guilt started to set in the more she thought about it. All the anguish she gave Claire these past few days and it was all out of her control! Who would have guessed it was the fragrance? She went into the master bedroom, to the private bath to shower as she continued to blame herself for this. She was so blinded by her jealousy and rage toward Sylar that she didn't see what was right in front of her. Claire always smelled Sylar and then relaxed. Claire would smell her before she freaked out. In the most humbling moment of her experience, Sandra realized she brought this nightmare with them, not Sylar. She acted like a selfish child towards someone that was never to blame. Sylar only wanted to help Claire. Sandra quickly showered and put on one of the hotel's bathrobes as she had no other clothing options that didn't smell like her. She almost put some perfume on but stopped herself in time. She threw it away before going to the other bedroom to apologize to Sylar for her childish behavior when she stopped dead in her tracks. Her anger flared as she saw with her own two eyes Sylar and Claire freshly showered and cuddled naked in bed together. She turned around back to her room vowing not to come out until she had the perfect plan to murder the manipulative self-serving bastard.

* * *

_Fifteen minutes earlier_

Sylar closed the door behind him and hit his head hard against it a few times. He didn't want to deal with Sandra anymore and he didn't want to subject Claire to her mother's unreasonable jealousy either.

"Thanks," Claire said as she poked her head around the shower curtain to accept the bathroom items he had grabbed from the bag.

"Don't thank me yet. I looked for clothes," he said, "but unfortunately your mother decided to make herself useful for a change—"

"Behave!" she chastised.

"—and had everything washed but some unmentionables," he continued on without acknowledging her interruption. He set down the said items on the counter.

"Underwear. Bra. Panties," she enunciated each word. "Is it really that hard to say?" she teased as she washed out the shampoo from her hair.

"Yes," he deadpanned. "I would gladly loan you the shirt off my back, but someone thought it would be _hilarious _to dump her drink on me."

"It was," she giggled at the memory. She waited to hear the door and, after a few minutes, poked her head out of the shower curtain. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Breathing."

"That's not what I meant," she said, then rephrased her question, "Why are you _in here _breathing and not _out there _breathing?" she gestured to the door with her head.

"It was a choice between breathing in here or suffocate your mother out there," he said, rubbing his temples out of habit. He was sure that, if it wasn't for his healing ability, that woman would have given him a non-stop pain-in-the-ass migraine. "I thought I chose the healthier decision. Correction, I chose the one that wouldn't have you irate with me."

"She's trying," she told him, her face full of empathy for him.

"_Yeah right," _he told himself. Claire had no clue what her mother's treatment to him was really like. But he couldn't blame Sandra. If he ever had a daughter, he sure in the hell wouldn't want her hanging out with someone like him. This attachment he had with Claire was unhealthy. He shouldn't need her as much as he did. And after everything he did to her, she sure in the hell shouldn't want him around her. But he was terrified to leave her alone...of what might happen if he did. She was scared and anxious when she couldn't see him. Together, they were a petrified codependent pair that was highly aware of where the other one was. He knew he should have called Parkman to watch over Claire while he hunted down Danko. But he couldn't leave her. He'd never forgive himself if Claire died like Cassie did. He vowed to protect her from anything.

"Do you need a shower?"

Claire's voice lured him back into the present as he wondered when she went from showering to standing in front of him. "Hmm?"

"Shower?" she asked as she held the towel close to her body.

Sylar smelled his skin, "I can't smell it—you tell me." He watched her lean forward and crinkle her nose. "Shower it is." He waited for the door to close before taking a quick shower. When he moved back to their room, he wondered how much longer it would be _their _room. Now that Sandra's aroma doesn't repulse Claire, she won't need him anymore. That thought made his heart ache in a way that he didn't want to acknowledge the meaning. He reached the room and saw Claire lying on the bed with the covers pulled over her chest as her arms held it securely in place. He could faintly see her bra straps hiding beneath her hair.

"She's trying Sylar," she told him as she patted the space next to her on the bed. The faint smell of Sandra's perfume lingered in the air and there was only one place she wanted to be in—wrapped tightly in his arms: the shelter that had quickly become her safe haven from the horror that consumed her life; his scent and his arms were home to her.

Sylar walked over to her and was planning on sitting on top of the covers in his boxer briefs but she had other plans. She pulled the covers up for him to slide in. She waited until he was settled before she laid her head on his chest. He felt her nose on his chest as she breathed in his scent before her lips curved in a smile. Why didn't he notice it before? Claire had always been fixated on his smell since he first held her in his arms at Coyote Sands. He should have seen it. It would have spared Claire and Sandra so much heartache. "I understand where she's coming from, I do. And I don't blame you for choosing me over her. I'd do the same thing."

"What are you rambling on about?"

"I'm saying I don't blame you. If I had to choose between sleeping with your mother or Satan, I'd be down in hell right now telling Satan to move over and stop hogging the covers." He heard her snort and thought it was the cutest sound he had ever heard. Then he proceeded to mentally slap himself in the face for using the word 'cutest.'

"It's not _that _bad."

"She's unbearable, Claire," he said, pulling her closer.

"She's trying," Claire repeated. "And besides, you would've picked her."

"What makes you think that?" He looked down at her, completely flabbergasted.

"You wouldn't want me in hell sleeping with Satan, would you?"

"What does that have to do with the topic at hand? Are you saying I'm—"

"Answer the question," she insisted.

"No, of course not," he told her as he kissed the crown of her head. "I'm trying to keep the demons away from you, not _bring _you to them."

"This right here," she said as she pulled herself closer to him, "is where I feel the safest. And I know that might make me a horrible person for saying that because you're, well _you _and she's my mother...But this is where I feel safe and secure. And if it meant following you in hell and telling both you and the dark prince to move over so I would feel this warmth, I would."

Sylar chuckled at the mental picture of little Claire Bennet telling Satan and himself to move over, before he banged his head against the pillow when he realized she was right. He already chose Sandra only because Claire needed her mother—it was the only reason he tolerated her and kept her close. It was Sandra's behavior and actions that made him think he chose to sleep with Satan. "I think we're both right on that. We're both sharing a bed with Satan...Sandra. _Ow_!" he yelped as he rubbed the side she just elbowed. "What the hell?"

"You just called my mother Satan."

"Sorry, should it have been Satan's mistress?" he retorted before she slapped his chest.

"Behave."

"I'm the angel," he told her as he drew an imaginary halo over his head to emphasize his point. "Satan's just finished showering." He pulled her closer as he realized Sandra would be coming soon for Claire. He didn't know why, but he wanted her as close as possible before she went away.

"Tell me a story," she asked in an attempt to change the subject from her mother; it just felt wrong to be in such an intimate embrace with him as they discussed her mother. But truthfully, she didn't want to think about what would happen when her mother would come for her. Sandra would want Claire to stay with her and Claire didn't want to be put in that position—to choose between her mother and Sylar. It shouldn't be a choice, but she knew her mother would make her decide. It had been so long since her mother held her that Claire wasn't sure if she would feel as safe and secure as she did in this man's embrace. She burrowed into his arms a little more and prayed to the God in the heavens above that her mother wouldn't ask her to choose. That is, if God still cared about her tattered and wrecked soul.

"What kind of story do you want to hear?" he asked as he complied immediately to her unspoken request.

"Tell me about you and Cassie," she asked quietly. "I really want to know about your childhood...about you."

"It's really quite boring." He looked down at her.

"I find that hard to believe," she said as she rested her chin on his chest to look at him. She was hoping to provoke him into saying anything. She loved to hear the words echo from his chest.

"You want to hear about the time Cassie and I were in the corner store? She stole a candy bar and when I found out about what she did, I dug the empty wrapper out of the trash and took it to the store." He felt her head rest on his chest again and swore he felt a smile.

"Why would you do that?"

"To pay for of course." He felt her chin on his chest again and could see her perplexed expression. "Stealing is wrong, Claire."

She smiled brightly at him. "How old were you?" She slid up his body and burrowed her face in the crook of his neck.

"Nine."

Claire pictured a prim and proper nine-year-old Gabriel Gray with his hair parted perfectly down the middle with no hair out of place. She saw him in trousers and plaid dress shirt, pressed and neatly tucked in. The image brought a huge grin to her face thinking of the little boy that would have been so obviously out of place in his neighborhood, bringing the candy bar wrapper back to the store to pay for it. _"What happened to that little boy? Oh, that's right, his friend died, then my father happened. That poor boy never stood a chance." _She wanted to jump inside of her head and wrap her arms tightly around that little boy to protect him from the years to come like Sylar was doing for her now. She felt Sylar's arms tighten around her and her smile grew as she wondered if he had ESP.

"I told you I was boring."

"You weren't boring," she whispered. "You were adorable."

Sylar chose not to respond as he did not how to react to it. They laid in each other's arms as Sylar recounted stories of the times he spent with Cassie. He was surprised it didn't hurt as much as it usually did when he remembered his only friend. He wondered if it was Claire's presence that kept the pain away. Sylar told her the story of how he broke his right arm on the fire escape as they tried to outrun the flames of the fire Cassie set. In her defense, she wanted to play fireman as realistically as possible. The flames just got away from her. She should have listened to Gabriel about the lighter fluid, but then again, her mother shouldn't have left it lying on the kitchen table either.

"Your poor mother."

"My poor mother?" he repeated as he thought he had clearly misheard her. He pulled away to look at her reaction. When she shook her head yes, he continued, "I was the one with the broken arm!"

"She's the hypochondriac tending to her special boy's injury."

"Touché," he told her. "And that was _way _below belt." He glared at her to emphasize his point. She smiled at him in response and her smile made him want to kiss her. He closed his eyes and willed those thoughts away from him. Seven days ago he had drawn a line in the sand of what was to be his and Claire's relationship: it was strictly professional and nothing else. There were supposed to be no strings. That line had blurred with each passing moment he had with Claire that he didn't know where it was anymore. They blurred the line of emotional intimacy with this charade they were playing. His brain started to redefine that line in the sand for the physical intimacy that his tattered heart kept erasing. What scared him the most was that he didn't know what was real anymore. He looked at her and could see a future the former version of himself would mock. Sylar no longer craved power. He just wanted to make her happy, to be worthy of her affections, and to see that smile on her face again. He didn't know when he started to feel like this or if it would happen, but he would be content in life if Claire Bennet thought he was worth his salt.

Claire put her hand on his cheek and kissed his other cheek, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"I know my mother hasn't made things easy for you." He opened his mouth to deny it but she pointed her finger at him. "Don't try and deny it. I know you tried to protect me from it, Sylar."

"I thought we weren't talking about mothers while we were in this state of clothing?" he reminded to redirect her before she embarrassed him even more with her words. She smiled at him again, making his heart skip a few beats. He wasn't in love with her, he couldn't be. His queasy stomach must be due to the flu or gas. Because there is no logical reason it could be from her smile.

She rested her head back on his chest. "Don't you mean as we lay here in our underwear wrapped up in each other's arms?"

"Something like that."

Her hand slid across his stomach that made the queasy feeling in his stomach more prominent. She smiled again as she lifted her left hand to admire her ring. Her grin grew as he entwined his hand with hers and rubbed his thumb over her ring finger. "It's beautiful."

"Not half as beautiful as you," he told her as he placed a chaste kiss on her temple.

"That was corny," she told him as she moved her hand to weave their fingers together. Sylar slid his left hand up from her hip. He pulled the blanket up to cover her exposed chest as it had fallen when she slid up closer to him. She grinned at him when her eyes caught the reflection from his matching platinum ring. His hand rested right beneath her breast. "It was too much," she told him. "My mother will freak out when she sees it."

"First of all, you're worth more than all the jewels in the world. And second, she already freaked out," he reminded her. "Remember when you left me holding the bag, so to speak, so you could shower?"

"Vaguely."

"You little minx," he said as his left hand tickled her side briefly before finding its resting place on her hip again.

Claire wouldn't admit it out loud, but she wished he hadn't moved his hand. It left a tingling sensation over the parts of her skin it touched. She looked at him and tried to figure out how this man made her feel so alive. Her breath caught in her throat when his eyes locked with hers. Her eyes shifted from his lips back to his eyes. Claire couldn't explain it but the strongest desire to kiss him took a hold of her body. She really wanted to know what he would taste like. She unconsciously licked her lips and moved her head closer.

He felt the same pull that Claire had. His brain and his heart were in a battle about how this could be potentially stupid, or good if his heart was right, if he kissed her.

"Sylar..."

The knock on the door pulled him out of the trance. "Saved by the bell," he said before hitting his own forehead at his own stupidity. His head was right; this minx was making him stupid. "That was way beyond corny and moved into..."

"Completely pathetic."

He grinned devilishly at her and she squealed in anticipation of the attack on her sides when the door knocked again. "You're lucky that's our clothes or else." He left the playful, unspoken threat linger in the air as he climbed out of bed and headed to the door.

"Promises, promises," she said after him and laughed at the face he made at the doorway. The tightness in her chest appeared the moment he disappeared from her eye sight.

He was gone for only a few minutes. He handed Claire her clothes before changing into his own. Claire waited until he had gone into her mother's room before changing herself. Sylar was gone for a few minutes when she heard their raised voices, which surprised her. They were usually quieter when they were fighting to try and keep her in the dark about it. She had reached the door when she heard her mother scream about how Sylar had broken her. She let out a small gasp before she could stop herself. She quickly covered her mouth with her hands to prevent anything else from coming out. Her mother was wrong. _Her _Sylar didn't do that to her. The next sound she heard was a hand slapping someone's face. And she was positive it was her mother slapping her Sylar.

* * *

_Present time_

Sylar closed his eyes and counted to ten as he inhaled deeply with each number. He couldn't believe that nagging little bitch just slapped him! If he wasn't trying to stop himself from murdering the little bitch, he would have respected her for standing her ground. He inhaled again. _"You cannot kill Claire's mother. You CANNOT kill Claire's mother! YOU_**_CANNOT KILL_**_CLAIRE'S MOTHER!" _repeated over and over in his head like a silent mantra. "For the last time," his tone matched the seriousness of his words; he was never going to repeat himself again, "This isn't about you or me. It's about Claire and what she needs. She's never going to be the Claire you once knew. That person is gone and who replaced her is a young woman who went through unspeakable horrors. She's trying to survive it, Sandra, and just like you and me, she's hoping to someday get to live again."

"But why won't she talk to me?" Her voice was teetering as a few tears escaped her eyes.

"It was Danko's manipulation," he reassured her. "It shouldn't be an issue now that we found the source of her erratic behavior towards you."

"_We"_ she shook her head in disbelief. She didn't deserve credit for that, so why would he share it with her. Sylar figured it out all on his own. She was too busy being petty and blaming Sylar as she chased down her daughter, causing her to relive those moments with Danko. She didn't believe in this humility he was showing because all she can see his are the worse parts of him. All she could see is that he would use his discovery to further embed himself in her daughter's life. "Just leave me alone," she told him. She was surprised that he complied with her wishes, as he went to the door. He pulled it open. "Sylar." She waited until she had his full attention. "Make no mistake: you're not the hero of this story. So don't pretend that you are."

Sylar closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He opened his eyes as he exhaled. "Sandra, I never have and never will profess to be the hero in anyone's story including this one," he admitted to her. "But you need to remember that although I am a villain, I'm not _the _villain of this tragedy." He closed the door, not waiting for her response. He was done trying with this crazy woman and vowed to only be civil for Claire's sake. He went into the room he shared with Claire and punched a hole in the wall. He hissed from the pain as the bones started to heal themselves followed by his skin. Sylar sat on the bed and rubbed his temples as he continued to count slowly in his head, breathing deeply with each number. He felt her hands on his shoulders before he heard his name.

"Sylar."

He leaned back into her massage. This was definitely a more pleasurable way of relieving the tension in his body than a fist in the wall. "Your mother's changing. I'd give her a few minutes..." He trailed off as he felt a knot leave his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Claire wrapped her arms around him from behind and grabbed his healed hand. She pulled it to her lips and kissed it. "Don't listen to her," she told him as she rubbed her thumb over his newly healed knuckles. "I don't believe one word out of her mouth."

"Claire..."

"Don't you Claire me," she scolded as she put her tiny hand on his cheek and pulled his face towards to look into those deep milk chocolate eyes, "You're my Sylar and you saved me."

"I'm the bad guy, please don't forget that."

"You're so much more than just _the bad guy_. I wish you could see it," she whispered as she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to see my mom." She stopped at the doorway. "Sylar."

"Yes, dear?"

"I need you to believe me when I tell you this is, okay?" she told him as he nodded that he was listening. "You're worth your salt and don't let anyone let you think differently."

Sylar smiled at her words as he watched Claire leave their room. He ignored the pain in his chest as he realized that that would be the last time he'd feel her arms around him and her lips on his cheek again.

* * *

"Claire," Sandra said in relief when she saw her daughter come into the room. She tried to hug her but Claire pulled away.

Claire glared at her mother when she gauged her mother's reaction when Sandra saw her instead of Sylar. Sandra really believed Sylar was going to kill her, with her daughter in the next room. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why can't you see him the way I see him?"

"Why?" Sandra asked in return. "Did you forget what he did to you all those years ago?"

"No, I haven't. But I forgave him."

"You forgave him!" Sandra shrieked.

"Yes I did," Claire informed her mother, "I don't hate him anymore."

"How can you not?" Sandra inquired as she crossed her arms.

"I know how this sounds, but if he didn't do what he did, Danko would still have me because Sylar would be dead."

"There would be no Danko if it wasn't for Sylar!"

"That is where you are wrong, mother!" Claire said, defending her makeshift hero. "If it wasn't for my fathers there _would _be no Danko! _They _were the ones that introduced him to _me_, to _Sylar_, to the _rest of the _**_world_**! They brought him into my world, not Sylar!"

"How can you say that!"

"Because it's the truth," she said in conviction. "Every bad decision Dad made came back to bite me in the ass!" Claire screamed at her mother. "First with Sylar, and then Danko."

"What do you mean?"

"Dad had the chance to teach Sylar how to use his ability without killing, without slicing people's heads open. But he didn't. He pushed him to be a killer."

"Sylar chose to be one, no one forced him to do anything."

"Is it really a choice when you have only one option?" Claire countered.

"Why are you defending him?" Sandra really wanted to know why Claire was so blinded by Sylar, the man that tormented for her years before he 'died.'

"Because someone has to," Claire said. "Elle taught Sylar how to learn about abilities without killing."

"I don't see—"

"Because you're too blinded by hatred and anger like I was," Claire said. "But you don't see him like I do now, Mom."

"How do you see him?" Five simple words, strung together in one sentence that made Sandra's heart race as the anxiety welded in her chest. She silently prayed to God that her daughter wouldn't confirm what she has been seeing over the course of seven days. That her daughter was starting to fall for the killer, the monster that cut her head open to steal her ability. _"Oh God, please let this be a nightmare I'll wake up from."_

"This could be a turning point for Sylar, Mom. He could be a better man if he has caring and supportive people in his life. This could not only be his second chance but ours, too, to do it right: to show Sylar the value of humanity, of love, and of family. "

"Just because he took you from Danko doesn't mean you're obligated to him."

"Took!" she stared at her mother wide eye, "He didn't take me from anyone. He _saved_ me!"

"For his own selfish purposes and why can't see it is beyond me!"

"You don't get it Mom," Claire said with sadness in her tone. "We have a chance to help Sylar be something other than a monster. I've seen the way he has been with me since the moment he _saved_ me."

"He's obsessed with you, Claire. Of course he's going to—"

"That was his past life, Mom," Claire told her. "This Sylar is different and I won't make Dad's mistake. We have the chance to help Sylar hold onto that goodness inside of him; to spare, not only him, but potential future victims of the heartache of his previous lifestyle. He's trying, Mom. He's trying _so hard _to be a better man than what he was. Why can't you support me in helping him, in giving him reasons to choose the other option that Dad failed to provide?"

"Claire..." she trailed off, exhausted, as she sat down on the bed and stared at the floor.

"I'm not stupid. I know that you think Sylar and I have this unhealthy relationship that we're codependent on each other." She saw a flash of disbelief and fear in her mother's eyes when they met hers. "And there might be some truth to that." Sandra snorted. "But I can't leave him Mom, not now."

"Because you think he can change...?"

"Because he _has _changed Mom," Claire said firmly. "I've seen his humanity, his compassion, his humility, and his loyalty. I've seen his heart, Mom, and it's big. But it's also beaten and bruised."

"It's not your responsibility to save him Claire."

"I know," Claire admitted to her mother with a small smile. "I wasn't his either but he still came running—without hesitation. When my whole world failed, he succeeded." She quickly wiped tears from her eyes. She didn't want to think about what she needed saving from.

"Don't do this."

"Even now he hasn't abandoned me," Claire said as new tears welded in her eyes. "He's..." She trailed off as she couldn't put into words who Sylar was. She just wanted her mother to see him, the real him.

Sandra stood up and hugged her daughter. A smile erupted from her face when Claire didn't reject her embrace. She pulled back and brushed the stray hairs from her daughter's face and the tears that escaped. "Please don't use this one example to justify his life."

"I'm not using this one example—"

"Good."

"I'm using them all." Claire looked at her mother with pleading eyes. "His actions are his actions and he takes responsibility for all of them. He would be the first to tell you that, Mother. But don't look at him with tunnel vision; because, you look at him and only see the bad stuff."

"Do you even remember the bad stuff?" Sandra countered. This couldn't be happening. She isn't sitting in some luxury hotel room trying to convince her daughter that the bad guy _is _the bad guy.

"Yes, I do," Claire reassured her mother. "But I also saw someone who saved me from Danko. He saved me from coyotes. He cared for me. He healed me. He brought me to my mother and is protecting us both from that terror that's still out there, trying to get me back. Most importantly, I see him _trying_."

Sandra snorted again and left Claire knowing about her opinion on Sylar attempts at chivalry. "I thought Peter was your hero."

"Do you see him anywhere, Mom? Because _I _don't," she told her as she waved her arms and looked around the room before focusing back on Sandra. "Peter couldn't save me from this. Hell, he couldn't even _protect _me from it."

"Don't romanticize the villain here Claire..."

"I heard every word of your last fight. I heard you slap him."

"Your point?"

"Widen your vision," Claire begged, "because _your _version of Sylar would have killed you in a heartbeat days ago. _My _Sylar is out there," she pointed to the door behind her, "meditating away the anger, tension, and unhealthy thoughts that might be racing through his mind. _Your _Sylar never would have knocked on your door. _My _Sylar's second concern was bringing me to you; the first was healing me so I was healthy enough for the journey."

"Claire, I'm begging you," Sandra said as she grabbed her daughter's hands, "let's call your father and get away from Sylar. He can protect us."

"Dad couldn't protect me from the old Sylar _or _Danko," Claire reminded her. "Plus, Danko is still out there. What if he is monitoring Dad's every move and if you call him, he'll inventorially bring Danko and I can't..." Claire wiped away the tears and tried to remember Sylar's smell. "I can't go through that again."

"Okay, I won't."

"And you'll give Sylar a chance?" She looked at her mother with hopeful eyes.

"I'm not going to make any promises, but I'll try."

"Thank you," Claire hugged her mother before she left to find Sylar. She needed his security before her nightmare consumed her. She heard Sylar in the bathroom and grabbed his jacket that lay on the couch. She buried her face in it and inhaled deeply. When she felt more relaxed she went back to her mother's room. She wanted to give it another chance with her mother and hopefully make peace between her mother and Sylar. She stopped outside the door as she heard her mother's voice.

"It's bad, Noah," Sandra said through tears. "That monster has brainwashed her. We need to get her away from Sylar as soon as possible...we're in Junction City, Kansas at the..."

Claire couldn't listen to her mother's betrayal any longer. She quietly walked away from the bedroom as to not alarm her mother. She went to the bathroom to find it empty. She heard the dresser drawers opening and closing in their bedroom. She ran into the room and, with tears pouring from her eyes, she whimpered out his name. He immediately wrapped her in his arms and pulled her tightly to his body.

"Tell me what's wrong."

* * *

_Four hours later_

Sandra woke up to the sound of someone knocking on the suite door. She vaguely remembered talking to Claire and Sylar before she felt sleepy. Claire suggested she take a nap as they were about to watch Aladdin again. Sandra hurried to the door and was surprised to have beaten Sylar to it. She looked through the peep hole and sighed in relief. Unlocking the door, she pulled it open to let Noah, Angela, Peter, and Matt into the room. "I thought you couldn't get a flight..."

"We used a chartered pilot to fly us directly here. We had a rental car waiting for us," Angela told her as the gentlemen looked around the suite for the missing two people and came up empty. Matt brought an envelope addressed to Sandra in Claire's handwriting.

"They must have gone out for groceries. I think I remember Claire saying we were out of something," Sandra said as she hoped it was the truth. She tore open the envelope and quickly read the letter. Her heart broke with each word.

_Dear Mother,_

_If you are reading this, it means you realized we're gone and we're not coming back. Before you start cursing and damning Sylar to hell, let it be known for the record that I, Claire Bennet, was the one who decided to leave you behind in Junction City to meet up with Dad and company when they arrived. Yes, I know that you called Dad. It broke my heart when I overheard your conversation._

_I would like to repeat for a second time to not blame Sylar for __my decision__. He tried his best to give logical and illogical reasoning on why we should bring you with us. He promised to keep a closer eye on you—24/7—vowing to never sleep. But how could I ask him to do something like that for you and me, when you wouldn't do something for us? I hope that last sentence makes sense to you, because I don't know how else to explain it. All I know is that for the past seven days, I have been the center of his world, his thoughts, and his actions. Everything Sylar did, he did to protect me and make me feel safe and secure. And after today, I know where I stand in your world and it shattered the pieces of my heart._

_I know you think I have betrayed you by going off with a man whom you still think is the enemy. But contrary to what you and Sylar believe, he's not the villain...he saved me, which makes him the hero of this story because he is my hero. He boldly saved me from Danko and reluctantly saved me from you. Did you even think about me, Mom, before you picked up the phone? You promised you wouldn't call Dad because Danko might have been tracking his every movement ever since he took me from Dad._

_Your betrayal risked my life. And in case you're wondering, those were the five words that won the argument with Sylar to leave you behind. Because, unlike you, my safety is his top priority. Hasn't Danko tortured me enough? Why are you so insisting to give him another go at it?_

_I still love you and I hope that you still love me. But, I'm not sure if I can ever forgive this betrayal; like I'm sure you'll hold onto mine._

_I have to go; Sylar's ready for us to make our escape from the city. Don't worry Mom, I'm safe with Sylar. He wouldn't let anything happen to me._

_Love,_

_Claire_

She felt Noah grab the letter from her hand. Claire's family was too absorbed in the letter to notice the relief on Matt's face. He was grateful Sylar got Claire out before they were able to get here. Sylar had called him two seconds before Matt did when he had overheard Noah and Angela talking about Sandra's frantic phone call. Sylar informed him that Sandra had told Noah where they were and Claire decided to leave her behind. Sylar was going to put Sandra in a hypnotic state and the sound of the door knocking would wake her from the trance; which is why Matt knocked really loud to make sure Sandra could hear it. He didn't know where Sylar was but he knew that Claire was safe. He noticed Angela giving him some strange looks and he made a note to read her thoughts more often. He was afraid his time with them was coming to an end. Angela might be dreaming of his connection to Sylar. But for now, he needed to play the part of the team player. "We should look at the surveillance cameras to see what car they were driving."

"It was a grey Volvo..."

"Sandra," Peter said as he grabbed something off the counter, "I have the keys to the car with a note from Sylar that says they left it for you and that he was sorry." He held up both items.

"Parkman," Noah instructed, "you and Peter try and get a look at the security cameras. But I don't think Sylar would leave us any clues."

"Let's hope he did," Matt said as he and Peter left to complete their errand. Within twenty minutes they were back in the suite. Both gentlemen looked as if they had seen a ghost.

"What?" Angela asked when she noticed them.

"Danko," Peter said.

"What did you say?" Noah asked.

"I mind-controlled them in believing we were from the FBI to get a look at the footage," Matt informed them. "The security guard directed me to get it from my friend that was here a few minutes ago."

"What friend?" Noah asked.

"We don't know," Peter explained, "but his description matched Danko's."

Sandra sank down into the chair and buried her face in her hands as she absorbed the information. "What have I done?" she whispered.

"How is that even possible with his injury?"

"He beat us to Sandra's home," Matt said, "and we didn't leave it until Sandra called. It gave him a whole week to recover."

"Are you sure it was Danko?" Sandra asked as a sick feeling came over her.

"Security footage doesn't lie," Matt said as he placed the DVD in the player and pushed play. He paused it to show Danko coming into the hotel.

"Oh my God!" Sandra whispered as the tears flooded from her eyes. She _did _betray her only daughter.

"Did you see Claire and Sylar?"

"There wasn't any footage of either of them," Peter said.

"Sylar must have gotten him and Claire out through the blind spots that the security guard told me about when he gave me the run over of the hotel's security," Matt explained.

"Great," Noah said, frustrated. "We don't have my daughter and Danko is still outsmarting us!"

Matt went to the kitchen under the ruse of getting a glass of water for Sandra so he could quickly send a text to Sylar to apprise him of the Danko situation. He slipped the phone in his pocket and turned around to see Angela standing there. "Can I help you?"

"What are you doing?"

"Getting Sandra some water," he said. "What does it look like?"

"Whose side are you on, Mr. Parkman?"

"Claire's," he told her truthfully, "like everyone else in this room." He walked past Angela and felt her eyes on him the whole time. The one thought that raced through his mind is that the evil wicked witch of the East has finally caught wind of his partnership with Sylar. He silently hoped that he would have more time, but the old bat knew the truth.

"I had an interesting dream, Mr. Parkman," she said loudly, "about you and Sylar. Would you like me to share it with the rest of the group?"

Matt felt all eyes on him and he knew he was caught red handed. Angela moved around him to talk to Noah about her dreams. Under the safety of the counter, Matt sent a text to Sylar to let him know that Angela knows about them, and that he was ditching the phone but will continue to follow his instructions. He cleared the call logs and messages. Matt protested loudly of his innocence and Angela's insanity to mask the sound of the burner phone being dropped into the trash.

* * *

_Somewhere on I-70 East in Missouri_

Claire held on tightly to Sylar as they sped down the interstate on the Harley-Davidson Sylar had in storage as Escape Plan D. Their identities were concealed by their helmets. The only luggage they had was the clothes on their backs as Sylar planned on buying more when they switched vehicles. The motorcycle would not be an ideal mode of transportation for days of driving with an emotional passenger clinging to his body. The last thing he needed was for her to fall off when he's going 80mph. He exited the freeway as they drove to a storage unit near St. Peters, Missouri.

"Why are we stopping here?" Claire asked through tears as she followed his lead and took off the helmet. She brushed her now shoulder-length light brown hair out of her face. She'd seen it in the movies and television, when you're on the lamb, the first thing you do is change your appearance. She loved her hair and cried when she had to lose it. Sylar, in an attempt to cheer her up said she could change his do as well. So before they left the hotel, Sylar rented another room on the top floor where Claire had cut and dyed her hair as well as Sylar's. What she couldn't understand was renting another room until Sylar explained that he didn't want to leave any evidence of the makeover in their bathroom. It made sense; they were in too much of a hurry to do a thorough clean-up job. She looked over at her companion. His long dark locks had been trimmed to the length when she met him in high school. It was a few inches long with the faux hawk style on top. A part of her would miss brushing his long locks from his face, only for the fact that it gave her a legitimate reason to touch him.

"To get my other car," he told her as he used his telekinesis to open the lock and manually pulled up the door. He pulled off the covering of his 1967 cherry-red Ford Mustang.

"Wow." Her eyes glittered at the sight.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" he asked with pride in his face. "I got it cheap at a police auction a few years ago. ...Well at least a few years before I became...you know." Neither one wanted to rehash how her biological father died.

"What happened to blending in?" Claire asked as she changed the subject quickly.

"She's a beautiful car that needs to be driven Claire," he told her as if that answer would make sense to a woman who didn't know anything about cars. He reached under the car to pull out the keys. "Besides, the bench seats are a more practical way for you to sit next to me when you need the closeness. Remember, the bucket seats and partition in the Volvo made it uncomfortable...?"

"So what you're saying is this car is more cuddle-friendly."

"I do not cuddle," he replied back in an appalled tone. "I may, on occasion, provide you with comfort that manifests itself in my wrapping one or both of my arms around you—"

"Oh, just admit that you _do _cuddle with me. You can fancy it up all you want by using all those words, but when it comes down to it, _you_, Sylar, _cuddle_." She bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing at him as he made a face at her. "So how are you going to get that out? There's no room to get into the car."

"By magic." He wiggled his fingers at her.

"Well I can't wait to get inside this baby so we can snuggle up together."

"Shut up and move to the side," he told his giggling companion as his invisible hands started-up the car and pulled it out of the storage unit. When the car was clear of the unit, Sylar put the bike inside with the helmets. He covered the bike and closed the storage unit. "Get in," he told her when he noticed that she was still outside.

"I would, but you need to unlock it first."

Sylar lifted his hand to unlock it with his telekinesis before sliding into his side. He threw the manila envelope into the back seat. It felt good to use his abilities again and noticed that Claire wasn't upset with him for using his abilities unlike when they were at the hotel room in Arizona. Although, invisible hands being used in opening a car door and in changing her clothes are two different things. He put the key in the ignition and restarted the car. He put the top down and started to drive away. Claire scooted over next to him and he wrapped one arm around her as she wrapped one around his torso.

"Told you we cuddle," she said as he pulled back onto the main road.

"Shut up," he said as he kissed her forehead.

"We're not going to do another really long road trip are we?"

"Sorry, baby doll, but we are," he said sincerely. "We need to avoid the traffic cameras."

"Okay," she told him. "And don't call me baby doll."

He let out a small laugh, "Yes, dear."

"Wait a minute," she frowned, pulling away from him, "You got this at a police auction."

"Yeah..."

"You're a wanted criminal."

"Oh that," he raised his eyebrows. "Well it pays to have friends in low places."

"What does that mean?"

"It means if you know a guy you can get an iron-clad new identity that would allow one liberties such as this if he wasn't a wanted criminal."

"Oh." She looked back at the manila envelope in the backseat, "Is that why we made that pit stop in Topeka? To pick up the new identities?"

"I had them made when we first got into Junction City," he informed. "I was going to pick them up today before all hell broke loose." A deathly silence filled the car. "Do you want to call her?"

"No," she said as tears started to form again. "It hurts too much to think about it."

Sylar pulled her closer as he continued to put miles between them and Junction City. He had read the last texts from Matt before deleting them as well as his call log before he threw the phone onto the side of the road. Sylar moved onto Plan E in his mind and hoped that Matt would be able to get himself out of his jam and retrieve the package Sylar left him without the idiot crew seeing it. He had to admit, Matt was smarter than he looked. His thoughts were pulled back to the emotional brunette sitting next to him. He kissed her temple and looked for the next hotel for them to spend the night. Claire needed his undivided attention tonight.


	12. When The Line Blurs

**Author's Note:** A portion of this chapter was inspired by Death Cab for Cutie's song _Someday You Will Be Loved._ It's an awesome song for those who don't know it.

* * *

**Chapter 12 When The Line Blurs**

_Junction City, KS_

Matt was forced onto the chair by Noah Bennet. The older man's cold stare brought shivers down Matt's back. Peter looked betrayed and Angela looked vindicated for some odd reason. His cover was blown and they knew he was in cahoots with Sylar. And the old bat found some sick satisfaction of being the one to expose their partnership. In hindsight, maybe all those flippant comments he directed towards her were a little harsh and uncalled for. They certainly didn't help him in his attempts to keep her quiet.

"You tell me where the hell my daughter is!" Noah demanded as it took him every ounce of strength to keep from hitting the man before him.

"I don't know," Matt said for the billionth time. He made the mistake of looking at Sandra. Her broken expression was what he couldn't handle. She was still reeling with mixed emotions of guilt and anger from Claire's betrayal. Not that he agreed with her assessment; she didn't betray Sandra. Claire was looking out for herself and, with proof that Danko followed them here, she made the right one. Sandra betrayed Claire by being selfish. _Who would have thought that between Sandra and Sylar, he would be the noble one, the unselfish one when it came to Claire?_ He sure in hell didn't think so.

"Noah," Sandra intervened, "he doesn't know anything."

"How could you team up with my brother's killer?" Peter demanded. "How could you—"

"I was looking out for Claire's best interest! Sylar is the only one who managed to—"

"Shut up!" Noah yelled as he didn't want to be reminded of his numerous failures to find his own daughter. He also had no desire to listen to Parkman sing Sylar's praises either.

"It's the truth," Matt told the irate father. "He did in _hours_ what we couldn't do in _weeks_. Do you realize how much anguish and torment we could have spared Claire if you would have _listened_ to me from the very beginning and released Sylar from that prison—" He felt the pain from Peter's punch that he should have seen coming.

"That _prison _was _my brother_, you bastard!" Peter punched him again. "That animal _murdered_ my brother and pranced around like him—"

"You can thank Mommy dearest for that one." He was surprised when Noah pulled Peter away from hitting him again.

"He's right," Noah confirmed. "We did what needed to be done."

"_What_?" Peter said in shock. He still couldn't accept the duplicity of his mother and Noah in covering his brother's death.

"We needed Sylar to clean up Nathan's mess," Angela said. "And I couldn't let go of Nathan..."

"He was Sylar the whole time. How could you... I can't..." Peter held up his hands as he made a frustrated noise in his throat and walked into the master bedroom to get away from the insanity that consumed the room.

"How did you stay in contact with each other?" Noah said focusing his attention back to his interrogation.

"You might have heard of it," Matt said sarcastically. "It's called a phone."

"Where's yours?" Noah demanded as they searched his person and his belongings. His phone records showed no unusual numbers outside of the people in the room and Janice.

"He gave me a burner phone."

"Where is it?"

"Where do you think?" Matt said in a belittling tone. "I deleted the call logs and text messages before I tossed it in the kitchen trash."

Noah walked to the kitchen and dug around in the garbage searching for the phone. He retrieved it and started looking through the contacts and call logs. He wasn't surprised to see it empty. Sylar trained his lackey well and used phones that couldn't be traced and could be easily ditched when needed. Noah knew that even if there was a retrievable number, Sylar would have ditched his phone as soon as Matt let him know he was caught. Noah gave Angela a look and waited for her and Sandra to leave the room. "How could you do that to Claire?" Noah asked. "Leaving her with her stalker."

"You don't get it."

"Get what?"

"He cares about her."

"He's obsessed with her!"

"Maybe in the past, but not today," Matt defended Sylar. "He's trying to keep her safe."

"And who's going to protect her from him!" Noah asked, practically screaming.

"Let's be frank here Noah," Matt said as he leaned towards the older man. "There are two things that Claire needs protection from: the first being Danko and the second being her fucked-up family. All in all, I think he's doing a great job of keeping her from those two things, don't you think?" Noah's fist collided with his face. He rubbed his jaw and silently cursed in his head.

"Where is he!"

"Read my lips, you moronic buffoon: I. DO. NOT. KNOW!" Matt dodged his fist and shoved the other man away from his personal space. "Sylar kept me in a 'need-to-know' basis for plausible deniability. I never knew where he was; I just followed his instructions and kept him reprieved of what was happening here."

"You were his mole."

"I was protecting Claire," Matt said. "After the break-in at your home, we both thought that Danko would be following you, waiting for you to lead him back to Claire. Surprise, surprise, you played straight into Danko's hands like the jackass you are!" The next punch collided with his stomach, then his face. Matt let out a curse as he felt his nose break.

"Keeping tabs on us, that was your only responsibility?"

"I was going to meet up with Sylar to watch over Claire so he could hunt for Danko."

"When?"

"Something came up that put a wrench in his plan."

"What happened?"

"Your wife happened," Matt said. "Sylar contacted me, stating he was going to give me the coordinates to meet up with him. He wanted to go after Danko but had no intention of stringing Claire and Sandra along for the ride. I was going to watch over the ladies. But first Sandra had to start behaving—"

"What did she do?"

"Apparently Sandra was being a grade A bitch," Matt informed him. "Sylar couldn't trust her to be alone because she kept trying to call you."

"Because she knows that I could protect our daughter."

"No, you couldn't," Matt responded quickly. "You couldn't stop Sylar _or_ Danko. Danko was always ten steps ahead of us and even knew our every movement while he was recovering from getting his stomach sliced open by Sylar. You couldn't protect Claire. You couldn't even get out from under Danko's thumb."

"Where was the rendezvous point?"

"I didn't have one," Matt replied honestly. "Sandra couldn't stop being problematic long enough for Sylar to give me the coordinates. He didn't trust her enough for him to move on to the next step in his plan."

"What was the plan? Go team up with the good buddy that gave him all those shiny new abilities?"

"No, not even close," Matt defended Sylar's honorable intentions. "The plan was always the same. Take Claire from Danko. Protect and mend Claire. Give Claire to me for protection. Then kill Danko. One plan with four stages but with your wife, he couldn't get past the second stage."

Noah sat down on the couch to absorb all this information. Apparently his wife contacting him was the worst thing in the world. If she was still with them, she could monitor the situation. And from what Sandra briefly told him of her time with Sylar and their daughter, they really needed a chaperon to keep them apart. Now who would be there to stop Claire from being a victim of Stockholm Syndrome?

Matt chuckled as he read Noah's thoughts. "You know, in order for that to be true, Sylar would have to be Danko, right?"

"Get out of my head."

"Gladly," Matt said as he stood up but was quickly pushed back down.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me where my daughter is."

"I just told you a million—Jesus, Sylar was right," Matt mumbled.

"Right about what?"

"For a smart guy, you're really stupid." Matt willingly took another punch with a smile as he wondered if Sylar had this much fun messing with Noah's head.

* * *

_Four Seasons, St. Louis, MO_

They were asleep, exhausted from the day. Claire turned over in Sylar's arms and snuggled closer to his body as his shirt, which she had worn to bed, rode up to her stomach. She smiled as she inhaled her favorite smell in the whole world. She wished she could bottle it and have his scent with her always. He was more attentive to her today as he complied with her every whim, anything that would bring a smile to her face. After they first checked into the Four Seasons, he took her to the gift shop and had her smell every bath product and purchased the ones she loved the most. When they got to the room, he drew her a bath with the vanilla bath salts. The tub was huge and was clearly meant for two and for a brief second, her heart wished he would have joined her. But her head knew otherwise, he was drawing that line in the sand again. He was repeatedly redrawing that line over the course of that past week. Especially with her mother's hawk eyes on her. Thoughts and desires swarmed her heart as she saw him less as her hero and more like the attractive man that he was... if only she could get him to stop being so noble and gentlemanly. She lied there, soaking in the tub, as she wondered how much effort it would take to get past his guard to kiss him. Claire Bennet realized that she never wanted a man as much as she wanted Sylar. She wanted him to see her as a woman and not a fragile soul. She wanted him to want her. But most of all, she wanted to feel his lips on her and know if he tasted as wonderful as he smelled.

"Go to sleep," a rough voice said as he pulled her even closer and kissed the crown of her head.

She stilled. Did he read her thoughts? _Could_ he read her thoughts? She knew that he spent a lot of time with Matt when he was believed to be Nathan. Did he empathize with Matt to obtain his ability? She felt his hands on her waist and stilled her body.

"For the love of all things holy in this godforsaken world, can you please stop wiggling?" he asked her.

She looked into his eyes and hoped that they were cloudy with desire more so than with sleep. "Huh?" she asked and mentally berated herself for choosing that moment to revert back to a teenager that couldn't speak when looking at her crush. _Why couldn't I say something sexier than 'huh?' He must think I'm an idiot. Because you __**are**_ _an idiot, Claire!_ His hands tightened their hold on her body.

"Please stop moving or I'm going to have to move to the couch."

She couldn't stop the hurt from showing on her face. _Why would he leave her like this?_ Her leg shifted and that's when she felt it as she heard a tiny hiss. Her eyes widened with the discovery and her heart soared. He _did_ find her attractive! But how can she use this to her advantage? _Why do I have to be so inexperienced in the art of seduction? Then I wouldn't be talking to myself right now but, instead, would be focusing on using this moment to my advantage. Focus, Claire. Just look at him and wing it._ She looked up at him and swore she saw his face moving closer to hers. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of their first kiss when he seemed to realize what was happening as well. Her heart broke a little when he pulled away from her completely.

"Where are you going?" She hated that her voice sounded so weak.

"I thought I heard something."

"Oh," she said, her tone implied she didn't believe him as she watched him climb out of bed. The tears welling in her eyes took away the view of his underwear-clad body walking away from her. She wanted to kick herself for the stupid tears that took that away from her as well. For the first time since leaving her at Junction City, she wished her mother was here to help her figure out these emotions that were coursing through her body. The tears fell when she realized Sandra wouldn't care and tell her to stop it or something because he was the devil. And the devil won't love her back. _Maybe my mother and Danko were right. He doesn't care about me; he just doesn't want anyone else to have me. _Her breath caught in her throat when she heard a noise. She drew the covers closer to her body as she pulled down his shirt to cover more of her body.

"What are you doing in here!" Sylar's authoritative voice demanded.

"_Danko found us!"_ her inner voice screamed as her body crippled with the knowledge of her kidnapper outside of the door.

"I'm sorry, sir," a feminine voice said. "Your wife said you would be out and to just let myself in."

"My wife said _what_?"

Claire relaxed as she walked into the main room. Relief flooded her body to see Sylar addressing the maid. Claire had completely forgotten that she had the laundry service wash all the clothes they brought on the impromptu shopping spree this afternoon. Sylar had gone with her to every store with the exception of Victoria's Secret. He mumbled something about not wanting to know her secret as he went to the luggage store across from it to buy baggage. She was starting to feel more comfortable in her own skin to wear her own clothes and not Sylar's. The clothes weren't tight or revealing, but they were at least hers which made her feel braver and stronger.

"Your wife instructed me to bring your laundry into the room," the frightened worker explained. "She said that it would be okay because you'd be out for a late dinner."

"She's right, honey," Claire said as she made her presence known. "I thought we'd be out of the room, not napping from the long day." She smiled at the terrified woman, "I'm sorry..." Claire looked at her name tag, "Janelle. I forgot to tell my husband. I honestly thought we wouldn't be in when the clothes were ready."

Sylar looked between the two women and broke out into a hearty laughter as he sunk down on the couch. He was too stressed that he couldn't resist the bouts of laughter from escaping when he realized that was ready to kill this woman over laundry.

Claire just smiled down at him as she watched the tension leave his body. She looked back at the confused woman before her, "I apologize for my husband. He's been under a lot of stress lately with his job."

"It's okay," Janelle told the other woman. "My girl is just the same."

"Sylar, be a good host for two seconds while I find your—"

"It's on the end table in the bedroom." He directed her to the object in question. _When the hell did we start completing each other's sentences?_

"Thanks," Claire flashed them a bright smile as she retrieved the wallet. She pulled out a twenty and handed it to Janelle.

"The laundry fee will be on the bill. You pay it when—"

"It's your tip."

"That's too much!"

"He scared the life out of the both of us," Claire said pointing to Sylar who had a devilish grin on his face. "It's not enough if you ask me."

"Thank you," she said. "You are very generous, and I'll share it with Jim who helped with the laundry." She quickly walked out of the suite and away from the now-laughing couple. Janelle took one last look at the lovely exchange before exiting the suite.

Sylar looked at her and stopped laughing. He gave her a big genuine smile that made her heart melt and her knees go weak. She sat down on the coffee table and felt that familiar pull.

"We should probably get back onto the road," Sylar said.

"It's seven," she pointed out. "Can't we at least stay the night?"

"We've been napping since two," he told her. "I'm feeling refreshed and I would still like to put more distance between us and them."

"I'm just asking for one night, and besides," she told him, "I'm starving."

"You're hungry?" he asked with disbelief laced in his tone.

"Yeah," she said, "and I want to eat something."

"Then let's get dressed and find someplace to eat." His smile was big and contagious. Who knew something so small would make him this happy? But then again, this would be the first meal that didn't involve negotiations, emotional bribery, or promises of force-feeding.

"Wait," she said as she placed her hand on his forearm. "Not yet. I want to give you something first." She walked quickly into her room and came out with the Victoria's Secret bag.

"I already told you that I don't want to know her secret," he told her with an impish grin and his hands held up as if he was surrendering.

"I already took out all the _secrets_," she told him. "I used this bag to keep you from snooping."

He pretended to look offended as he lowered his hands. "I think you're confusing me with you, sweetheart, because you're the snoop in this relationship."

Her heart skipped a beat when he said _relationship_ and her breath caught in her throat. She really wished there would be another shift in their relationship. She pulled out a small black box.

"You're not proposing are you?" he asked her, an eyebrow raised as he gestured towards the box. "Because that's my thing."

Her damn heart skipped a few more beats. Even though she knew he was teasing, it still affected her more than she wanted to admit. "Not proposing," she said. "I saw this at the window today and it made me think of you."

She held out the box for him and he noted that he had never felt this nervous before in his life. His hand was shaking a little when he took the box from her outstretched hand. He really hoped she didn't notice because never his in life did someone buy him something before that _it_ _made them think of him_. He opened the box and saw a sterling silver St. Jude's medallion on a matching chain. "St. Jude," he said as he looked at her. "Which one of us is the loss cause here?"

"Neither," she said as he took it from his hands and put it on him. "He is known as the patron saint of loss causes or _impossible_ causes." She placed her hand on the medallion as it rested on his heart. "St. Jude's help was sought out when all hope was lost. It was usually when someone was gravely ill or in a life-and-death situation. When his help is called upon, it's usually the last resort and his aid comes at the last moment."

"Claire," he started to say but was silenced when she put her finger on his lips. It took all his restraint not to kiss that tiny finger.

"That's what you did for me," Claire confessed to him. "In the eleventh hour, when all hope was lost, I opened my eyes and there you were standing over me." She didn't realize she was crying until she felt his fingers wiping the tears from her face. She moved off the table and sat on his lap as she straddled him. She cradled his face in her hands and felt his hands slide up her thighs before they rested on her hips. "I had given up and known that I was going to die by his hands. My fathers and my uncle couldn't find me. I thought that they had given up on me as well."

"They would never—"

"I know that now," she told him as she caressed his face. "But Danko had broken me, broken my spirit. I craved death to escape the nightmare that became my existence. In the same moment I had given up, you had appeared. I need you to know this, Sylar, and it's very important that you do."

"You have my undivided attention."

"You were a bad man," she felt his face move before she saw it. She pulled him back to look at her. "You made mistakes, just like the rest of us. You're only human. But I see the good in you as well, Sylar. You have changed whether you want to admit it or not. I see you. I see _all of you_. You think that, because of who you were, you don't deserve to be anything but the villain. But you're not that man anymore. You're not that Sylar anymore. You're _my_ Sylar. I can still see that spark of Gabriel Gray in you, the man that Cassie adored so much. You thought he died, but he didn't. He's still in there because he's a part of you, like Sylar is a part of him."

"I don't deserve your kindness." He took her hands away from his face and held onto them.

"You've more than earned it, Sylar," Claire retorted as she turned her hands to intertwine her fingers with his. "You deserve it. Please see the man I see today because you're not the same man who killed Nathan. You've changed, and I'm not sure if it's because you were forced to live his life for three years or if what happened to me awakened the gentle and kind soul that is still thriving inside of you."

"I'm not—"

"And that doesn't mean you're not a badass either," Claire assured him, "but you stopped living so selfishly and embraced all of you."

"I don't deserve any part of you," he told her in all honesty.

"Whenever you believe that line of bullshit, I want you to look at this," she let go of his hands and slid them up his stomach to rest on his chest, where the medallion was. What she didn't know was that there were goosebumps her touch left in its wake. "And remember the impossible causes that brought us here to this place and know that if everything else in this world makes you think differently, know these two true facts: Claire Bennet knows you are worth your salt. Claire Bennet knows you deserve more than me."

"Claire, it's _me _that doesn't deserve _you_."

She grabbed one of his hands and rested it on the medallion again as she covered his hand with hers. "Weren't you paying attention, my dear?" she asked with a small smile. "Claire Bennet knows you deserve more than me. More than my broken soul."

"_Il mio bell'angelo_," he whispered in Italian. "You may be broken, but I can fix you, _my beautiful angel_."

His fingers brushed a few stray hairs from her face when she felt that pull again as she inched closer to him, licking her lips as her heart raced. She was finally going to kiss him. When their lips were centimeters from touching, her stomach growled, ruining the mood.

Sylar pulled back laughing, "I think you're hungry."

Claire closed her eyes as she felt his lips on her forehead. She could feel the vibrations from his laughter. Before she could lose her nerve, she kissed him. ...Well she tried to, but miscalculated and her lips ended up kissing the corner of his mouth. She smiled when she heard his breath hitch before she felt him slap her ass. "Hey!" she said pulling back.

"I'm getting hungry too," he told her. "And I'm pretty sure all the restaurants here have a dress code that requires more clothes than a t-shirt and underwear.

Claire was about to protest when her stomach growled again. She succumbed to the fact that the moment was lost and as she climbed off his lap, she took comfort in knowing that he wanted to kiss her as well. Now, what can she do to create that moment again? She let out a squeal when he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"Jesus, woman, I'm starving and you walk too damn slow!"

"Well, some of us don't have frick'n giraffe legs!" Her remark earned her another swat in the butt. "Hey!" she protested as she reached down and slapped his behind as well. "Ow!" she cried out as her hand tingled from the impact. "You have to teach me how to hit, so it hurts you and not me!"

"Somehow, I just don't quite see how that would benefit me at all!" He laughed as she felt her hand slap his ass again before she cussed. He dropped her on the bed as he grabbed the bag he had carried telekinetically behind him and set it down next to her. He watched as she grabbed her clothes and went to the bathroom to change. His thoughts drifted to Matt and he hoped the other man was okay. He hadn't heard from him yet and was certain that Noah wasn't going to be very forgiving after he discovered that Matt was working with him. Sylar was tempted to go back for Matt, but when he heard Claire in the bathroom, he knew he couldn't risk her safety.

* * *

_Junction City, KS_

Matt could feel his left eye starting to swell shut and his fat bottom lip starting to bleed. The knock on the door interrupted Noah's interrogation as the maid service came to change the sheets in the master bedroom. Matt was quickly pushed into the bathroom by Noah as Peter went to the suite door.

"Don't you dare make a sound," Noah threatened as he slammed the door behind him.

Matt knew he didn't have much time to search. Sylar left something behind for him to find and this was the only room he hadn't searched in before Angela shared her vision with the world. He let out a small laugh, remembering that the big vision was of Sylar and himself in suits. Sylar was nervous as Matt had put his hand on the other man's shoulder to comfort him. There was music that drew their gazed forward as Sylar's nervous smile turned into a deliriously happy grin. What the hell did it mean? He didn't care to know. He just wished his partnership with Sylar would have been revealed in a more ass-kicking vision than them in a church... _Oh_, that's _why Bennet flipped out._ But Angela couldn't see the bride; it might not have been the young Bennet girl.

Matt quickly searched the cabinets and came up empty. He searched every unusual place he could think of but came up empty every time. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he stared at the toilet. "No," he thought to himself, "it couldn't have been that easy." He lifted the top off of the tank and found nothing. He replaced the lid and sat on the toilet, ready to give up, when he noticed something at the corner of his eye. Placed strategically in the trash was a mobile phone that looked like the one he threw away earlier and an envelope with the hotel's logo on it. "Genius," Matt praised his partner, "you hide it in plain sight." He shoved the phone in his pocket and tore open the note. The first thing that surprised him was that Sylar had called him by his Christian name and not by a famous dog's name. That had to mean something right?

_Matthew,_

_If my calculations are correct, the old bitch finally figured out our connection. If not, then here is your back-up phone for when she does. Hide it well, because we both know it's coming. I want you to know that I'm sorry for threatening your son. I'm pretty sure that I had no intention of harming your boy. I just needed you to believe it so you would work with me to find Claire. I was so desperate to find her, to free her from Danko, and I didn't think you would help with me willingly. So I threatened Mattie. Because any man worth his salt would do anything to protect his family. I truly apologize for that and I am going to do what I should have done from the beginning: give you a choice._

_Will you help me to protect Claire?_

_If you choose to do so, it will not be an easy task. Her family with not be so 'hospitable' when they figure out our connection. If you choose to part ways, I understand and no harm will come to you or your family. Your debt has been paid in full. For the past seven nights, I have stayed awake just watching Claire sleep safe and secure in my arms. Your aid did that, so I will be forever in your debt._

_Please contact me at this phone number (555-987-1234) with your decision. If you decide to continue helping Claire, the number will remain. If you decide you're out, I'll ditch the phone. It's nothing against you, but my core priority has always her safety._

_Please take good care of Sandra. She tries to hide it, but I see what the pain of leaving Sandra behind did to Claire. If you're watching over her, it might alleviate some of Claire's pain._

_Sylar_

Matt reread the letter and could not believe that this was the same man from one week ago. Somehow, Claire Bennet had done the impossible: she took the cold-hearted killer and made a man out of him. He quickly dialed the number and Sylar answered after one ring. "I'm in," was all that he said.

"Wait for instructions," the other man told him. "And Matthew—"

"Matt," he corrected.

"Thank you, Matt."

The line went dead immediately as Matt made sure the phone was on vibrate and deleted the number before hiding the phone inside his right boot. He quickly memorized the number and put the letter and envelope in the toilet and flushed. Thirty seconds later, Noah entered the bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, should I have asked your permission to take a shit?" Matt said sarcastically as he threw the towel on the floor after he dried his hands. He was prepared this time for the sucker punch in his stomach.

"Where the hell is my daughter!"

"You seriously need to change your tone, because no matter how many times you ask that, the answer will always remain the same: _I do not know_!" Noah sucker punched him hard in the kidney.

* * *

_3 days later—Thursday, Edenton, NC_

It was sunrise when a weary Sylar pulled into his home in Edenton, NC. It was in a gated country club community with a view of the ocean. He remembered purchasing it shortly before he made the fateful trip to DC and ended up wearing Nathan Petrelli's face.

He looked over at his beautiful travel companion. She was asleep with her body tucked into his and it made him smile. The strong urge to kiss her lips as a gentle wakeup call coursed through his system. He sat there for a few minutes as he tried to take control of his emotions. Claire could never feel anything for him but contempt and he really needed to stop wanting to kiss her. But he couldn't help himself; there was this indescribable pull that kept drawing him back to her. Never in his existence did he have to practice this much constraint and control, but he _really_ wanted to feel his lips on hers. Would she taste like vanilla? Or something else...? He pictured Sandra Bennet's scowling face and was able to rid himself of these impure thoughts for the moment. He wanted to carry her to the house without waking her but she stirred when she felt his body shift.

"Where are we?" she asked as she rubbed her tired eyes and looked around.

"Home."

_Home. _Her eyes landed on a greenish-gray, modestly-sided, two-story house that was hidden among the trees. She looked to her left and saw the garage. It was beautiful. She accepted his hand and let him pull her out of the car. She heart fluttered when he continued to hold onto her hand as she brought her free hand to rest on the inside of his elbow. They walked into the house and laughed when he picked her up to carry his 'bride' over the threshold. Her eyes gazed over the home. She barely registered him talking about having a cleaning crew out before they arrived.

"It has three bedrooms and two and half bathrooms," he told her. "One is in the master bedroom and the other is upstairs. The half bath is over there," he gestured with head as he set her down. "There is a loft above the garage. I think it was used as a guest house because it has a kitchen with a full bathroom as well."

"It's beautiful," she whispered as she looked around at the California redwood, hardwood floors, stone fireplace with a soaring stone chimney, cathedral ceilings with exposed beams. The view was incredible as one wall had windows as tall as the door and very wide that showed the ocean, and had a sliding door and patio. In the distance she could see a dock in the water.

"It's surreal, isn't it?" he asked her as he grabbed her hand and toured the upstairs bedrooms and bathroom. Then, they went downstairs where he showed her the study that had one littered with books on their shelves with a beautiful view of the ocean. She could also see a tall oak tree with a tire swing. Claire could picture Sylar in here reading as she was outside pushing a little boy of the swing. He pulled her out of her the room and to the kitchen. It had stainless steel appliances and an island in the middle. She was excited to see the gas stove and wondered if Sylar would disapprove her roasting marshmallows over it even though they had a fire place.

"I love it."

"One more room, then we'll roam around outside," he told her. "It's a gated community, so it will provide that added protection of rent-a-cops. We have a privacy fence for our neighbors and I have installed a security system as well. Remind me to give you the pass code and keys. There's also a country club if you're into that pretentious crap."

"Not a fan?" she asked as she continued to soak in her surroundings.

"Nope."

He pulled her into the master bedroom and she stopped in her tracks. "Oh my..." The master bedroom had its own fireplace and private patio with a sliding door that lead straight to the ocean. Her eyes landed on the king size bed and wondered why they would ever need so much space. Suddenly, an image of a lazy morning snuggled up in bed with Sylar as he read to her came into her mind. The image changed and she could picture a little boy and girl with their father's milk chocolate eyes, snuggled up with them as Sylar read. She brought her hand to her chest and wondered what it meant, that she could see a future with this man.

"You okay?" he asked her as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Yeah," she said as she leaned into his embrace. She stayed like that for a few minutes before she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the house. "It's just so _beautiful_. Have you ever seen something so beautiful before?" she asked him as she stared into the sunrise over the water.

"No," he said, not really hearing her question as he was mesmerized by her smile.

Claire felt his eyes on her and could feel the blush forming on her cheeks. She looked up at him and wished she hadn't. The intensity she found in those milk chocolate eyes made her cheeks redder. She closed her eyes when she felt his hand caress her cheek. Oh god, did she want to kiss this man. Opening her eyes, she noticed that his face was getting closer to hers. She could see his lust clouding eyes before he closed them. Closing her eyes again, she attempted to close the distance. The moment she had been waiting for days to happen was in her midst. She smiled as she felt his breath on her face and her heart was beating wildly as it droned out their surroundings.

It had all happened so fast, she wasn't sure what had occurred. One moment she was being cradled in his arms, anxiously waiting for their first kiss, and the next she was tucked into his back as his eyes went to the source of the noise. It took her a few minutes to detox from the missed moment to realize it was a car horn... in the driveway.

"Son of a bitch," he mumbled as he released her. "I'm so sorry, I forgot." He kissed her forehead before taking long strides to the front yard. "I hear you, so lay off the fucking horn!" he screamed at the unknown visitor who complied to his demand.

Claire stood motionless as she waited for the blood to start pumping to her brain so it can tell her limbs to start moving. She looked up to the heavens and wondered if God and his angels were laughing at her. "You really hate me, don't ya?" she asked the clouds. The image of the heavenly hosts falling over in their hysteria caused her pleading look to turn into a harsh glare. She jogged to the front yard in time to see a truck with a trailer pulling out of the driveway. The vehicle left behind was a black Range Rover with Texas plates that Sylar had pulled into the garage. "Do you really need another car?"

"This is for when we meet up with the family," Sylar explained as he walked out of the garage and towards her. "Because there is no way in hell am I letting your father know what car I actually drive _or_ any clues to where I live."

"Why?"

"Because I prefer my home, my car, and most importantly myself not to be set on fire," he told her seriously. "Besides, Matt would prefer the extra leg room."

"Matt... as in Matt Parkman?"

"Yeah."

"What does Matt have to do with anything?"

He opened the passenger door to his Mustang, "Want to come with me?"

"You're dodging my question, Sylar," she confronted him. "You only do that when you know I won't like your answer. We both know I'll drag it out of you eventually. So why don't you save us both the time and just spit it out?"

He groaned as he looked at her. When did this little pixie beside him learn to read him so well? "Matt has been working with me. He's been feeding me information on what your father has been up to and in exchange, I've been giving him information of places I was already at to shift focus on Nathan's lack of presence."

"What?"

Sylar went into the explanation of how Matt was the one who brought him out of the prison he was in and how he was the one who became his mole inside Noah's group. He also shared with Claire on how he threatened little Mattie's life to get Matt's cooperation. Inhaling deeply as he hung his head in shame, he confessed that he was 99.9999% sure he would haven't gone through with it and that it was the remaining .0001% that terrified him, for it was that certain percentage that were the chances he would have killed a baby. He looked at Claire and knew this was it. She was going to slap him hard, call him a monster, and walk out of his life. At least Matt was still in his corner and could take over his protection detail so he could find Danko then. She started to move and his closed his eyes; he couldn't watch the moment that was about to break his heart.

Claire walked up at him. "Look at me." He shook his head no. She cradled his face. "Look at me," she repeated in a quieter, more pleading tone. She inhaled when she saw those broken brown eyes staring down at her. "I know that you wouldn't do that to Mattie," she reassured him. "You're a better man than that—"

"I'm a killer," he told her as he removed her hands from his face. "Please remember that I'm a bad man."

"Why do you insist on telling me that all the time?"

"Because you seem to gloss over the huge fact that I am a bad man!" he explained. "You can try wish away the bad part of me, Claire, _or_ you can ignore it, but you can't make it disappear."

"You're better than who you were, Sylar," she told him with complete determination, "and I will get you to realize it even if it takes me an eternity."

"I'm not worth it—"

"Yes, you are," she cut him off as she poked him in the chest. "And I don't ever want to hear that line of bullshit come from your mouth again. Understood?" She crossed her arms and raised her left eyebrow as she waited for his response, almost daring him to disagree with her.

"Crystal," he said as he cracked a small smile when he realized he was getting the shake down by someone almost a foot shorter than him. "For the record, I gave Matt an out without any repressions on my end."

"He chose to stay didn't he?"

"How did—"

"Because that's what a true hero does."

"You and your heroes," he said with a laugh. He looked at her and tucked some stray strands of hair from her face. "I will be forever in his debt for what he did for you," he whispered. "For us."

It felt like her heart did three backflips when she heard him whisper those last two words. It was in that moment that she knew she was a goner. She didn't know if she was _in love_ with him, but she knew that the pieces of her heart loved this man. "What's going to happen when they find out he's your partner?" Images and scenarios flooded her mind of what might be happening to a faithful friend she didn't know she had, until a moment ago.

"They already know, Shorty," Sylar confessed. "And he's most likely getting his ass kicked right now from your father and possibly from your uncle as well."

"We have to save him," Claire said frantically as she grabbed his hand to pull him towards the Range Rover.

"He knew the price and is willing to take it for your safety, Claire," Sylar said as he pulled her back towards him. "We can't go. Matt told me he was discovered. I gave him an out. He chose to stay, to continue what we started."

"But Sylar..." her voice trailed off as she felt him wipe her unnoticed tears away.

"I know. Trust me, I tried to find a way," he said as he hugged her.

"But?"

"If we went back unprepared, Matt's sacrifice would be in vain and Danko wins."

"I hate this." She held on tighter as she tried to wish away the horrific images in her head as she vowed to make them pay for any harm done against the brave police officer.

"I know," Sylar said, "but it's going to end, because I'm going to find the bastard that put all this into motion. I just need time."

"To plan?"

"I have a plan. It just needs the final touches," Sylar told her. "I just need to prepare you for the fight." He kissed the crown of her head before he released her from his arms. "Starting with a discussion about seeing a therapist and teaching you self defense."

"You're going to teach me to fight?" She couldn't stop the smile that formed. Her father would never show her any fighting techniques. He always believed he could protect her. Boy was he wrong on more than one occasion.

"No," Sylar said immediately as her face dropped, "I'm teaching you _self defense_. To protect yourself and to get your ass out of the bad situation."

"Sylar—"

"Self defense, Claire," he told her, "to learn how to protect yourself from..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. He pulled her back into his arms as he tried to bury the feelings of helplessness and guilt towards Matt and Claire. Sylar pulled back and looked at her, "Want to come with?"

"Where?"

"We need food," Sylar said, "then I plan on sleeping the day away."

She nodded as she studied his face. The fatigue was clearly seen in his face as he was up for the past 72 hours, driving. A huge part of her just wanted to force him inside to take a long nap as she cared for him. But she knew the stubborn ass before her would never rest when he was determined to do something. With a wicked grin, she deliberately brushed against him when she slid into the car. A spark flooded her senses with that _innocent_ brush and the sudden intake of breath from her companion told her she wasn't the only one that felt it. It gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, his feelings were running wild like hers.

_She's not making it easy for me, is she?_ He asked himself as he got into the car. The whole ride to the store he kept trying to remind himself why he couldn't act on his growing feelings for the now petite brunette who was curled up next to him.

* * *

_Friday_

Claire laid tangled in Sylar's arms and legs as she ran her fingers through his shortened locks. She had awakened a few minutes ago from a dream... a very good dream that also terrified her. She wondered how much of Disney's Cinderella was true—was a dream really a wish your heart makes when you're fast asleep?

_(Claire's dream)_

_Claire was standing in front of a mirror finishing the final touches of her Halloween costume as she put the black headband in her long blonde locks. She was dressed as Alice, from _Alice in Wonderland_._

"_Mama, are you ready yet?" The mirth could be heard his in tone._

"_I'm almost ready," she said._

"_Because me and the Cheshire Cat_ _here are worried that if you don't move your pretty little a-s-s along, there won't be any candy left for him."_

"_Don't you dare swear in front of our son!" a wide-eyed Claire turned to see Sylar dressed as the Mad Hatter, holding their son who was dressed as the Cheshire Cat._

"_Well, technically, I didn't swear in front of him—I spelled."_

_She rolled her eyes as she pulled their almost-three-year-old son into her arms, "So he can learn how to swear by spelling—yeah, I don't see any flaws in that plan." The sarcasm was laced heavily in her tone._

"_Mama," her son giggled._

The dream fast forwarded to Claire and Sylar walking as they each held onto one of their kid's hands.

"_Okay, sweetie, do you remember what—"_

"_Jesus, Claire," Sylar reprimanded her. "He's my kid, which means he's a frick'n genius, so of course he knows what to do when it comes to trick-or-treating."_

"_Frick'n!" the little boy squealed as he echoed his father._

"_Great. Nice one, dear."_

_Sylar groaned as he knelt down by his son, "Of all the words I strung together to form that sentence, you pick __**that one**_ _to repeat!"_

"_Frick'n," he said laughing at his daddy._

"_Please restrain yourself kid, or else Mama is not going to let Daddy have any fun tonight."_

"_Mama, no! Daddy's good! Let him have fun!" the clueless boy defended his father. He stood in front of his mother, wide-eyed, as he shook his head from side to side._

"_Yeah, Claire," Sylar repeated with a wicked grin. "Let Daddy have fun." He waggled his eyebrows to let her know just what type of __**fun**__he had in mind._

_Claire didn't think she could be any more humiliated until she heard someone clear their throat and looked up at their elderly neighbor holding a bowl of candy, waiting for her trick-or-treater. _

_"Oh my God," she covered her face, completely mortified, as Sylar pulled her into his arms. She could feel his chuckle vibrating from his chest as their little boy took the five steps to the front door. _

"_Trick or Treat, Miss June," he said with a huge grin as sweets went into his bag. "Thank you!"_

"_You're welcome, dear," Miss June smiled down at the little boy._

_Claire felt a tug on her arm and looked at her son._

"_See Mama, I'm a frick'n genius like Daddy!" he beamed with pride._

"_No honey," she told him, "your daddy's a complete idiot!"_

"_No! Daddy's a frick'n genius!" The small boy stubbornly defended his father's honor._

"_I concur with your mother assessment." He noted his son's confused face and rephrased, "I agree with Mama: I'm an idiot." Sylar could hear June laughing in the background._

"_I still love you, Daddy," he wrapped his tiny arms around his father's neck, grinning widely at him._

"_I love you, too."_

She smiled as she remembered the dream and wondered if her dream would ever come true. Sylar was so guarded with her that she could _feel_ the Berlin wall that he placed between them. Did he lose interest in her? Was it what those men did to her that made her unappealing to him? Why didn't he want her anymore?

Sylar stirred as he felt her fingers in his hair and oh _god _did it feel good. He opened his eyes and the first thing his eyes focused on was her smiling face and those lips. The overwhelming urge to kiss those lips consumed him. He pulled away from her in hopes that putting distance between them would erase those impulses. The brief flash of hurt on her face made him want to close the distance... But he couldn't. He had to keep them as far apart as he could. Claire was confused; she didn't really want him and when this nightmare was over, she would be grateful nothing ever happened. "We should get up. You're first appointment is today and it's about a forty-five minute drive to the therapist's office."

"Yeah," she said as she watched him walk away from her again. _Is the thought of being with me that hideous?_

_Elizabeth City, NC_

Claire sat nervously in the waiting room as she pretended to read a magazine. She felt his hand squeeze hers before he laced their fingers together.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered.

"I'm not nervous."

"Sure you're not." His tone told her he didn't believe her at all.

"I'm not!" she insisted as she pulled her hand away.

"You're reading a hunting-and-fishing magazine."

"So?" she looked up at him. Just because she was a girl didn't mean killing animals doesn't interest her.

"Upside down."

She looked down and realized he was right. She threw the magazine back on the table and rested her head on his shoulder. "Okay, I'm nervous. Is that a crime?" She felt him kiss the crown of her head before resting his head on hers.

"No," he whispered.

"Claire Grey?" a middle-aged, brown-haired, and blue-eyed woman asked.

Claire shook her head at her new name. Did Sylar honestly believe by spelling his last name with an 'e' instead of an 'a' that no one searching from them would figure it out? _He's been running long than you can remember, maybe he knows how to keep a low profile. _ A sarcastic voice in her head reminder her. Sylar kept her safe this long; it made no sense to start doubting him now. "That's me," she said as lifted her head and felt Sylar take her hand and give it a squeeze.

"I'll be here waiting for you," he promised her as he gave into the urge and kissed her cheek. "For luck," he told her surprised face.

She gave him her best brave smile and walked over to the woman. She shook the woman's outstretched hand.

"I'm Jen Keller," she told her. "It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah," Claire mumbled as she took one last look at Sylar, who gave her an encouraging smile, before following Jen into her office. A floral smell hit her when she entered the office. She sat on the couch across from Jen who had placed her pad of paper in front of her with her pen in hand. "I'm scared."

"It's okay," Jen said. "People come to therapy for various reasons. We go at your pace and we will work towards achieving the goals we set for you."

"Goals?"

"What are you hoping that I can help you with?"

"I'm scared."

Jen leaned forward and repeated, "You're scared."

"Yeah," Claire said, "I'm scared of everything and I just want to go back to living."

"You're scared of everything."

"That's what I just said," Claire said, frustrated. "Is this all you're going to do, just repeat everything I say? Because, if that's the case I could just go talk to a parrot."

"Are you scared of the man who brought you here?"

"What? No!" Claire said. "He's the one person I'm not terrified of."

"What makes him different from everyone else?"

"He saved me."

"From what?"

"I was kidnapped by a very bad man who wanted revenge on my fathers and Sylar."

"How old were you when your fathers adopted you?"

"Huh?" Claire furrowed her brows. "You misunderstand. My mother and father adopted me when I was a baby. I just recently found my biological parents in the past five years. They both past away since I found them."

"I'm sorry for the mix-up," Jen said sincerely. "Is Sylar the man outside?" Claire nodded. "What is his relationship with you?"

"He's... he's my Sylar." Claire took a deep breath. "My biological father is a politician... _was_ a politician. He did something horrible and my adoptive father helped him. He was working with this man—"

"Sylar?"

"No. Danko." It hurt to say his name. "My fathers pulled the plug on this government sanction project. Danko was already crazy but he went off the deep end when the project was shut down. He said my fathers and Sylar ruined his career and his life."

"That's a pretty strong accusation he made against them."

"Danko was a bad man," Claire said, "and they were just trying to stop him from hurting people."

"They sound like brave men."

"Sylar is," Claire corrected. "My fathers were just cowards. I can't tell you why; it's classified." _That's the best lie you could think of? 'It's classified?' ...Well, I guess that, technically, it is._

"Where does Sylar fit into this?"

"My whole family hates Sylar," Claire told the therapist. "He was a bad man a few years back but he changed. Sylar is a retrieval specialist. I can't explain him or what he does. Nor can I explain the way he thinks, the way he sees the world, or the way he is able to do what he does. He's that person you call when something precious was taken from you and you want it back."

"So he worked with your fathers on this special project."

"No," Claire said, "he worked against my fathers to destroy it because it was wrong. He worked with Danko on the inside. Danko felt played."

"And you?"

"I was the one common link between the three of them," Claire said. "Danko took me and... and..." She broke down into tears and took a Kleenex from the older woman.

"We don't have to go there today," Jen said. "You don't know me. You're not sure if you can trust me."

"I hate them," Claire blurted out. "I hate them so much."

"Who?"

"My dads."

"Why?"

"I'm mad at Nathan for what he did to create this mess and I'm mad at my dad for what happened when I was taken." Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"What did your dad do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Jen repeated.

"He claimed that he could find me on his own but he was selfish," Claire said in disgust, "Every decision he made was wrong."

"Why do you say that?"

"He didn't tell my mother for three weeks. She found out when the bastard sent her a video of him," she inhaled as she willed the memory away, "hurting me." She finished as she didn't want to go there. "Sylar's colleague, Matt, wanted my dad to contact Sylar who was..." she paused to think of a good lie that was close to the truth, "on a job at the time. My dad had the means to reach him but didn't even try to reach him." Claire grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. "After three more weeks had passed, Matt disobeyed my father and contacted Sylar."

"What happened?"

"Sylar found me in twelve hours and twenty-nine minutes and he blames himself for taking that long. He blames himself for being taken in the first place because if he was there, he believes he could have prevented it or at least found me while I was still in New York. He blames himself when he should be pissed at my father for not doing anything!"

"Twelve hours and twenty-nine minutes... That's pretty exact."

"Sylar had it down to the second, but I didn't want to know."

"Why?"

"Because if my father had contacted Sylar from the beginning, all the bad things wouldn't have happened. Danko had me for six weeks, twelve hours, and thirty-seven minutes. Twelve hours after the abduction nothing had happened yet. He didn't stab me, beat me, carve into my skin like a canvas, and I wasn't gang raped by men he had convinced that they were auditioning for a pornographic movie!" She jumped up from the couch, "Sylar could have saved me from all of that if my father wasn't an egotistical bastard and would have just sucked in his pride to think about me! But he didn't! And horrible things happened to me because of it! He never loved me, because if he did, Sylar would have found me sooner! Because that's who he is, that's what he _does_! He _finds_ things, no matter how hard they are hidden!" Claire collapsed on the sofa and started crying.

Jen handed her the box of tissues and Claire grabbed a few.

"Sylar," Claire whispered. "I love him and I'm not allowed to."

"Because your family hates him?"

"Because I'm broken," Claire cried. "He knows I'm damaged and he won't ever love me again. Did I tell you that before this happened, he basically told me that he loved me? That when he sees his future, I'm there with him? But now... he's keeping his distance. I don't blame him. I'm not that fiery, feisty fighter he loves... I'm damaged."

"Does he know what happened?"

"He knows almost everything," Claire whispered. "He discovered it all when he was searching for me. Now, he treats me like a disease."

"I don't believe that," Jen said. "He's here because he cares."

"He's protecting me because Danko hasn't been caught yet."

"He's here because he cares," Jen repeated. "I saw that when he held you in the waiting room. That kiss on your cheek."

"For luck."

"It's because he wanted to, it's because he cares," Jen told her insistently. "People like him that do jobs like he does move onto the next project once the job is over. They don't linger because they do not get emotionally involved with whatever 'package' they are sent to retrieve. The fact that Sylar is still here with you, speaks volumes."

"I'm damaged."

"No, you're not," Jen reassured her. "You went through some horrible things that no one should have to endure. But Claire, you survived it."

"It feels like that's all I'm doing—surviving."

"Then we will work on getting you back to living life instead of surviving it."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Claire said as she felt extremely uncomfortable. The floral smells of the office were getting to her.

"Then we won't," Jen said. "There isn't a time frame with therapy. It's moment by moment, day by day."

Claire buried her face in her hands. The continuous tears streaming from her eyes blurred her vision. She inhaled deeply and could smell the floral scents of the office. She wiped her eyes and looked around the gray room, frowning. "What's going on?"

"Claire?"

She turned towards the sound of Jen's voice. It sounded nice but her eyes landed on her nightmare. "No!" She screamed, "How did you find me!"

"_Foolish whore," Danko told her. "You know you can't escape me. Now for your punishment for trying to escape me, we will consult our history book and do it like the Romans did." _

Jen moved from her chair and sat next to Claire. She tentatively put her hand on Claire's shoulder but she quickly moved away from the therapist. "Claire," she whispered, "where are you?"

"In that abandoned warehouse," she said through her sobs. "He's wants to crucify me." She quickly stood up to run but couldn't make her legs move. Her body gave out and she landed on the floor.

_He threw her against a beam. "First, I'll crucify you for trying to steal my car, and then I'll stone you for being the adulterous whore that you are!"_

"_Please don't," she sobbed, "I promise to behave. I'll do anything!"_

_He punched her in the face. "Doing anything is what made you a whore! I mean, come on, having sex with three men at the same time." He made a repeated 'tsk' sound. _

"_You had them rape me, you bastard!"_

_He slapped her across the face. "You loved every moment of it, you whore! And now you'll pay for your transgressions!"_

"_Please don't hurt me anymore," she begged him._

"Claire!" Jen yelled, "You're not there anymore! Today is October 16th. The year is 2010. You're not there. It's Jen Keller. You're in my office. We're in Elizabeth City, North Carolina."

"_You're just lucky Sylar's dead," he told her as he stretched her arm against the beam. He held it in place with his knee as he reached for the nail and hammer. "What would he have thought of his virginal Claire giving it up to anyone? He would have gone__** crazy**__to know that you just gave up your virtue to random strangers! We both know how much he __**enjoyed**_ _his favorite toy being __**'untouched'**__ by anyone but him." He grabbed her face and forced her to look at him, "Tell me, Claire... what did it feel like to have his fingers inside your brain?"_

_She spit in his face. "You're a monster!"_

_He slapped her again. "And you're a whore that's about to get what's coming to her. The perfect punishment to fit the crime." He hammered the nail into her left wrist._

_Claire let out an ear-piercing scream._

"What the hell is going on in here?" Sylar demanded as he barged through the door.

"Mr. Grey, I have everything under—"

Sylar quickly made his way to Claire and pulled her against his body as she struggled against his hold. "It's okay, I'm here," Sylar told her. "You're safe now. He can't hurt you."

"He's right, Claire," Jen said. "You're in my office in Elizabeth City. Do you remember coming in today?"

Claire inhaled and could smell her favorite scent. She buried her nose in his chest and stopped resisting. "Sylar."

"Hey, beautiful," he whispered as he pulled her closer and kissed her temple.

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he told her before looking at the therapist, "What the hell happened?" He felt Claire pull away as her hands pulled at the sweatshirt he was wearing. He took it off and helped her put it on. He noticed her inhale deeply before she burrowed back into his body.

"I can't disclose our session."

"Even to her husband?"

"Claire?" Jen asked as she watched her nod her approval of consent. "We'll have you sign the consent form before you leave." Claire nodded again. "We were talking about you and how much her family hates you."

"That's the understatement of the century."

"When she suddenly went into this trance and, wherever she was, Danko was going to crucify her."

"He was here, Sylar," Claire said. "I heard his voice and I can still smell him."

Sylar inhaled and could smell the jasmine mixed in with the floral scents and groaned. He picked up Claire and carried her out of the office.

"Mr. Grey," Jen said as she went after him, "she would be more comfortable in the privacy of my office."

"I highly doubt that," he said as he stopped in the jasmine-free waiting area. "Have a seat, doc, and I'll tell you why Claire can't be in your office without having an episode."

* * *

_Saturday—Edenton, NC_

Claire landed softly on her back again.

"You're even not trying," a disappointed voice said.

"Yes, I am!" she insisted as she let him help her up for the fiftieth time.

"Then why isn't my nose broken and you're flat on your back again?" Sylar chastised her, "Let's start again."

Claire grunted in annoyance and before she knew what has happening, he had wrapped his arms around her tightly and had pulled her towards to his body. She tried to squirm in his arms.

"Stop squirming, it's not helping you," he instructed as he pulled her closer. "You're two seconds away from me—"

Claire stomped hard on his right insole. When his grip loosened, she elbowed him in the nose and could hear the cartilage breaking on contact. His hands were on his nose as she turned around, completely pissed off at him, and kneed him hard in the groin for her own personal benefit. He sucked in a breath and leaned over. Claire took the opportunity to knee him in the nose again and watched triumphantly as he fell over. "Well, Teach, I think I get an A as I appeared to knock you on your ass." She smiled at him.

"You failed," he grunted out as his body healed.

"How?" she asked with a frown. "You told me to knock you on your ass. You're on your ass and back. That has to be extra credit—" She was too busy talking that she didn't see his leg sweep over and knock her down. His weight on her body quickly followed as he grabbed her hands and held them over her head with one hand. "What the—"

"This is why you failed," he told her. "You had me down and you forgot to run away. Instead, you stood there, smug, waiting for me to recover so I could do this to you. Now I have you trapped and I'm completely pissed off for the pain you caused me. This isn't a good combination because I'm _really _going to hurt you now."

"Oh."

"I'm teaching you how to get away Claire, you had to run away from me."

"I wasn't being smug," she mumbled as she felt him glare at her. "Okay, I was being..." her voice trailed off as she looked at him. He was staring at her and, with his free hand, he caressed her face. She leaned into his touch and wished that he would let go of her hands so she could touch him. Wherever he touched her left that part of her skin on fire. Her breathing increased its speed as she finally realized how close his face was to hers the whole time. All she had to do was lift her head and she could be kissing him. In a moment of bravery, she lifted her head, but before her lips could touch his, he completely pulled away from her.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a surprised wide-eyed stare.

"Trying to kiss you," she pointed out the obvious.

"That's not a self defense move—"

"No, it's what I've wanted to do for days," she cut him off, "and each time, something interrupts us or you pull away. Do you really find me that hideous?"

"What? No, you're beautiful." He confessed quickly as she caught him off guard.

"Then why won't you just give in and kiss me?" she said confidently, "Because I know you want to."

"It's not my place." He quickly stood up.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked him as she pushed herself off the ground.

"You're just confused."

"Confused!"

"Yes, confused," he repeated. "After all that happened, you don't really want me. Your emotions are running wild and I've been helping you. You don't really want me, you just think you do."

"Let me be the judge—"

"You don't know me, Claire." She opened her mouth to retort but he raised his volume to continue, "Because if you did, you wouldn't be pushing this."

"I don't know you? I don't _know _you!" she repeated, exasperated.

"That's what I said," he replied, "because if you did, you would be running for the hills and would never look back."

"I know you, Sylar," she looked at him, wondering how he could be so jaded. "I do. I know all the bad things you did. I know that you're like me: we were both adopted because we weren't wanted by our biological family. You're angry at the world for what your biological father did to you and your mother, what Martin and Virginia Gray did, what happened to Cassie. You're angry and you're lashing out. You don't think you deserve love because two people who loved you while you were growing up were taken away from you. And the rest of the world tried to control you and make you their puppet."

"Don't..." he begged, he didn't want to relive his life. It was hard enough the first time.

"I know what you did to me, the good and the bad." She stepped closer to him when he stepped away. "I know that you love oranges so much I'm surprised you're orange with the amount you eat in some days, but never have I seen you drink a glass of orange juice."

"Because orange juice is full of sugar and unnecessary crap that makes it disgusting. If I want that vitamin C intake, I'll eat an orange over drinking that crap."

She smiled at his rationale, "Did you talk in your sleep?" She saw briefly panic flood his face as he wondered what he might have said in his sleep. "And last night my heart stopped beating for I have no idea how long because I thought I heard you say you loved me. And I wished you were awake, because if you were, I could have seen your face to know if I heard you correctly. The night before, you went on about how _Star Trek _was better than _Star Wars. _Then you said something about Spock being cooler, because Kirk was a man-whore. You're such a Trekkie geek, aren't you?" She gave him a playful smile.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but couldn't think of how to even begin. This was too intense and too stressful. He just wanted to run away from it, from her. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of how to convince her that she doesn't mean what she's saying.

"I know you pinch the bridge of your nose when you're stressed," she pointed out and smiled when he looked at her, shocked. "That's just a handful of what I learned about you, Sylar, but I _do_ know you."

"Please, Claire, don't."

"You don't want me." She felt the tears forming but was determined to keep them at bay.

"Jesus, Claire, of course!" He stopped and took a deep breath, "You have no idea how much I lo..." He stopped, realizing what he was about to say.

"You what?" she insisted, surprised and curious.

"Never mind," he tried to walk away but a hand on his forearm stopped him.

"You what?" She held her breath wondering if he could admit that he loved her while he was conscious.

"It doesn't matter, Claire, because I don't deserve you _or_ your kindness," Sylar told her.

"If you're too chicken to say it, then I will—I love you."

"No, you don't," he told her. "You can't love me. I'm not—"

"I love you!" she said with absolute certainty. "I'm not in love with you," _yet _was left unspoken, "but I love you."

"Please, Claire," Sylar pleaded with her. "You can't mean it."

"Just because you're afraid of what's inside your heart doesn't mean that I am," she told him. "I know what I think and I know what I feel."

"I can't go there, Claire."

"Why?"

"Because when this is all over and you have your life back, you'll regret this," he told her. "And I can't put myself out there to wait for you to realize this isn't what you wanted. You will regret this and you'll hate me for taking advantage of you."

"I know I'm inexperienced in the whole art of seduction here, Sylar, but I thought I made it pretty clear that I'd be _thrilled_ if you tried to take advantage of me. Not that you _would_, because I'm standing in front of you, practically _throwing myself at you_!"

"He's out there, Claire," Sylar told her as a tear rolled down his cheek. "A man that already has your heart. You just haven't met him yet. He's not me. He's a better man than I could ever be."

"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard!" she said forcefully as she wiped away the stray tears.

"Well, you make me stupid!" Sylar screamed back at her.

"_What_?"

"It's the only explanation I can think of," Sylar told her. "Twelve hours, Claire. I'm intellectually superior to that asshole and he outwitted _me _for twelve hours. All because I couldn't think with my head but my heart; so I must be fucking imbecile!"

"Well I whole-heartedly agree that you're an idiot!" she yelled back at him. "Because that mysterious person you're yammering on about is _you,_" she poked him in the chest. "You're trying to pawn me off to yourself, you dimwit!"

"It can't be me."

"_Why not_?"

"Because I'm a monster!" he said forcefully. "If you don't believe me then ask any member of your family. They will tell you the truth."

"No. You're a man," she told him. "A man I—"

"Please don't say it again."

"—Love."

"Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes were full of tears and he looked broken.

"_Me_? _You're_ doing this to _us_," she said. "Or maybe it's me. Maybe you're too disgusted with me because I'm just damaged goods. I'm no longer that virtuous and pure woman you were chasing after before it all happened, and the thought of touching me makes you sick to your stomach. Because Danko was right: I'm just a whore who gave it up to for a..." She couldn't finish that sentence because the thought of it made her want to throw up.

"Don't you dare say that about yourself! I won't let you tear yourself apart like that!" he yelled at her. "You're _not_ damaged goods and you're _certainly __**not**_ a whore!"

"Why not? It's true," she told him. "You know all the bad things that happened to me and you would prefer a woman that isn't so—"

"I'm in love with you, Claire! Are you happy now that I've admitted it!" Sylar yelled back at her. "Every night I fall asleep watching you sleep; savoring every moment because I know it's going to end."

"Why? Why does it _have_ to end?"

"Because that better man will come and take you away from me. And it will destroy me," he told her. "So I'm being selfish towards you by trying _so hard_ to keep my distance from you because I know there's someone out there that is better for you. Someone that isn't a psychotic serial killer. Someone who your family will love and accept as a part of your life. Someone who fits in your life perfectly. And I'll be a blur of memory from this nightmare that you worked so hard to forget. But for me, I'll be stuck haunted by the memories of your kiss, your embrace, your touch, your _everything_! I'll be _ruined_ because I will _no longer_ have to speculate if you taste like you smell. I'll compare every woman that crosses my path with you. 'Does she smell like vanilla like you do?' 'Does she genuinely laugh at my lame ass jokes like you do?' 'When I kiss her, is it like heaven on earth?' And it will drive me even _more_ insane than I am _now_ because _you're it_ for me, Claire. And when I lose you, I'll lose myself. So I'm going to be a _selfish __**bastard**_ that keeps you at arm's length away to protect myself from when you wake up and realize you _don't_ _love me_, because the person that you're supposed to be with finally found you."

She grabbed his hand and placed in it on her chest, trying a different tactic, "This heart here is yours. You already have it. And I know that it's just a bunch of pieces, but I'm working so hard," her vision was cloudy with her tears, "to paste it back together so you can have a whole heart and not pieces. I'm sorry that I'm so damaged that I disgust you. I'm sorry that I'm broken. I'm sorry that I fail to be—"

It hurt his soul too much to hear her apologize for not being enough. Why didn't she realize that _he_ was the one that wasn't enough for her? He wanted to take away her pain and, since his soul was damned to hell anyways, he gave into what his heart, body, and soul were screaming for days for him to do: he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "Strawberries," he whispered when he pulled back and licked his lips. Sylar felt her pull his head back towards her and kissed her again. He could feel her smile against his lips.


	13. Meet the Grey's

**Chapter 13 Meet the Grey's**

Sylar could feel the muscles straining his neck and back as he deepened the kiss. He pulled back and let out a small laugh. "Good God woman," he mumbled against her lips, "Could you be any shorter!"

She let out a startled squeal as his hands traveled to her ass to lift her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist to help support herself, "Did you ever think that maybe you're just too tall?" she mumbled back.

He broke the kiss and looked at her through hooded eyes, "I'm average height for a male. You my dear have the same stature of a Smurf."

"Jackass," she playfully hissed as she punched his arms. "Owe," she pulled her injured hand to her body. "You have to teach me to hit properly so you hurt and not me."

"_Claire," a familiar voice tried to lure her focus away... _

"I still don't see the benefits for me." Sylar smirked.

"I could make it worth your wild," she whispered seductively back to him.

"Yeah?" he asked as he leaned in to kiss her.

"_Claire," the voice said again a little louder as he tried to get her attention. The voice sounded suspiciously like Sylar's._

"Yeah," she murmured.

He smiled into the kiss as he whispered on her lips, "I could think of a few ways."

"_It's time to get up lazy bones." Sylar told her. _

She couldn't understand how he could be talking with his mouth was occupied in a lip lock with her. Claire opened her eyes and her face fell when she saw the ceiling of the master bedroom staring back at her. "No," she whined as she flopped down on her stomach.

"Bad dream?" Sylar asked, the concern was laced in his voice as he sat down next to her and rubbed her back. His eyes scanned her body for any signs of distress.

"No!" she exclaimed, "It was a fabulously wonderful dream! Why did it have to be a dream, it felt so real!" She glared at him and smacked him arm, "Owe!" she pulled her hurt hand to her body, "This is all your fault!" She tried to hit him again but he grabbed her wrist.

"Stop," he said, "that wrist just healed itself."

She was momentarily shell shocked from the sense of d_éjà vu_. "What?" Did she hear him right? The wrist felt fine. The serum Danko used was flushed out of her system so whatever damage would have been quickly healed. Whatever was in that serum allowed her to feel pain again even after it was out of her system. It was a bittersweet reunion. She forgot how much pain hurt. But the hurt was worth it to feel somewhat normal again. Her glance dropped towards Sylar who was examining her wrist for any signs of injury. It made her heart swell with the hope of something more with him. The man lived his life in logic and reasoning was giving into the irrational fear that whatever physical injury the invincible woman acquired would require first aid. Even though every time, he watched her body heal itself before his eyes, she could see the panic in his eyes has he tried to tend to a wound.

"Don't you remember injuring it yesterday during your self defense lesson?"

"Wait, that happened?" Claire tried hard not to hope that it was true. She was tired of being disappointed and let down.

Sylar was taken back at her bizarre behavior. Closing his eyes, he silently hoped it wasn't from regret. _"I knew she'd regret it. I should have practiced more self control." _Inhaling deeply, he opened his eyes and looked at her. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Do you wish it didn't happen?"

Claire could feel the hurt radiating from him. The way he was looking at her, she felt like she just told him she killed his dog for the hell of it. "You kissed me. It happened right?" Her voice was small as she whispered them slowly to him. Claire was preparing to have her heart broken into smaller pieces. _"This is what you get to hope Claire! When will you learn that damaged goods don't get to hope for better things!"_

"So you do regret it and wished it never happened," his face fell as he misread her confusion, "I can try and pretend for you—"

"No!" she blurted out as she threw her arms around Sylar pulling him into a tight embrace before she put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him—hard. She could feel his smile forming. "I was dreaming about it and I was so afraid that it was just a dream. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." She gave him a chastise kiss before she fell back on to the bed and pulled him with her. She curled up in his embrace and rested her head on his chest. Allowing his heartbeats to soothe her wayward thoughts.

"How long _you've _been waiting?" he said a little stunned, "I've been waiting _years_ to kiss you."

"Do you regret it?" She asked him timidly. She didn't have a lot of boyfriends and maybe she was a bad kisser…

"Never," he responded immediately.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you _really_ doubting the only person in your life that _doesn't_ lie to you?" He asked her as he watched her raise her head. She rested her head on her hand to look up at him.

"I'm just making sure because you were fighting this—," she gestured between them, "us yesterday."

"I was fighting the inevitable heart break from it," he corrected her. He continued when he noticed her confused expression, "When you shatter my heart to smithereens."

Those words stung hard. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that," she whispered as she rested her head on his chest again, "I wish you wouldn't doubt me."

"I'm not doubting you now," he tried to explain; "I doubting the future, the one where people always leave."

"I love you," she told him, "and I'm not going anywhere."

"Today," he whispered back, "But what about tomorrow? Or when you're back in your world? The world that I will never fit into. I know you'll try in the beginning. But eventually you will succumb to familiar pressure and that will be it. I couldn't blame you or them. I am a monster."

"Were."

"Whatever the case maybe," Sylar whispered, "They will never see me as a man, only the monster. They would make you choose and I could never do that to you."

"You would leave me?"

"I would wait for you," he corrected her, "Because I have eternity, they just have this lifetime."

"So why are you so sure that I'll shatter your heart?"

"Because in the in between you'll fall in love with a young man who is worthy of your affections and your family approves of. You'll make a life together and having litters of children. And I will never fit into that picture perfect life."

Claire tried to hide the pain of hearing him waiting for her to break his heart. She placed another chastise kiss on his lips and tried to melt her body closer to him. In hope that he could just feel the emotions she felt for him. She truly loved him; she just wasn't _in_ love with him—yet. She knew this wasn't going to be easy—this journey she was starting with Sylar. All the skepticism from the external factors were a given. Her family would never accept him, especially not him as her significant other. What she wasn't anticipating was his self doubt and negative outlook on life. He was always so confident around her. He successfully masked his low self esteem and self doubt in arrogance and selfishness. Sylar never let anyone close enough to see the person behind the mask. Until now. She _should _have known his insecurities. Sylar's childhood consisted only of one abandonment after another. Whether he was being sold, abandoned, or his best and only friend was murdered; the end result was always the same. Someone was leaving him behind. Her heart broke for him. He was so fixated on fixing her that she made it her mission to fix him. Two broken souls being pieced back together.

A few hours later, Sylar and Claire were in the kitchen. Claire was washing the dishes as Sylar dried. Neither one noticed how quickly they developed a routine with each other. How easily they fell into their roles of the young newlywed couple. Claire was sitting on the counter has she watched Sylar put away the last of the dishes.

"So what's the agenda for the evening?" he asked her as he closed the cabinet door and threw the towel on the table beside her.

"Agenda?" she repeated as she took the towel and hung it to dry. She shook her head at someone so maliciously organized and structured in his daily activities would be so messy at his home.

"Yes, agenda," he repeated, "A list, plan, or outline of things to be done, matters to be acted over voted…"

"I know what _agenda_ means," she interrupted. She was beginning to find his need to define words for her annoying…especially the easy words. The complex words she never heard before in her life she was fine with. But when he misread her confusion as a request for definition his choice of words; it made her want to throw something at him because she swore he was doing it deliberately.

"Okay," he said slowly, "So what's on the agenda…"

"I particularly hate that choice of wording you just used because it makes the evening sound like a business meeting and not a relaxing evening with my…my…" She trailed off as she was unsure of what their relationship was—of who he was to her or what she was to him.

"Your?" he baited.

"My pain in the ass," she glared at his suggestive smirk.

"Claire—" the doorbell ringing drew his attention away from the fiery brunette before him.

"Are you excepting anyone?" she asked.

"No," he said, "Wait here."

When he left the room, Claire jumped off the counter and for reasons she didn't know, she hid behind it has well.

Sylar reached the door and looked through the peephole and discovered a young couple. A tall, lean man with bleach blonde hair rubbing his left arm who was next to a woman a few inches shorter than him, with raven black hair. The woman was carrying what something in her hand. He slowly opened the door. "Can I help you?" His left hand was hidden behind the door as the bolts of electricity bounced from his fingertips waiting to be used against these people if necessary.

Claire's heart was racing as she tried not to image who was at the door. She didn't want to think that it was Danko. Why would he use the front door and lose the element of surprise? Her eyes swept the windows to see if it was a diversion Danko concocted to get her alone. But she didn't see a soul.

"Sweetheart," Sylar's voice echoed through the kitchen. She couldn't find any distress in his tone, not that he would if there was any danger lurking at the doorstep, "The welcoming wagon is here."

Claire let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding. She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart before heading towards the door. Claire knew that once she was tucked into his side that her heart would calm completely down. His presence gave her peace. Claire put on her best hostess smile she seen her mother do at her father's parties.

"There she is," Sylar said smiling as he put an arm around her and pulled her close to him. Her grin widen when she felt a kiss on the crown of her head. "Claire this is Jake and Ava Taylor."

"We live right next door in the brown home," she said as she tried to hold back her excitement, "I…we just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood."

"How Mrs. Rogers of you," Sylar mumbled before he felt Claire elbow him in the side.

"Stop being a jackass and behave," she whispered before addressing their neighbors.

"Please forgive Ava," Jake apologized for his wife, "She's just excited to have a neighbor in her age bracket." Ava just stared at her husband and tried to hide the blush of embarrassment.

"That explains…" Sylar never had the opportunity to finish his sentence as Claire elbowed him in the stomach again.

"We're glad to meet some of our neighbors," Claire responded as she tried to recover from Sylar's rudeness, "You're the first ones we've met." Claire thought it was odd that none of neighbors broke out the welcoming wagon. She remembered her childhoods were that would be the first thing her neighbors did to any new people on their block.

"Well the other old cronies don't really partake the welcome wagon per say," Ava said, "until they do a thorough background check to see if you're worthy of their time."

"She's kidding," Jake said at the same time Sylar responded with "Here's to hoping we're not with the effort."

"Please come in," Claire opened the door wider for the couple and moved to the side.

"I made you this," Ava gestured to the pie in her hands, "It's apple."

"Thanks," Claire said accepting the gift, "He's an apple pie freak so I know he'll love it. Will you be able to stay for a slice and maybe you can tell me all the good places to see."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"We'd love to get to know the people next door," Sylar said in what he thought was a non threatening tone until he felt Claire elbow his stomach.

"Please excuse my husband," she apologized, "Genius IQ and absolutely no social skills."

"I successfully wooed you didn't I?" He winked at her.

"Wooed?" Claire asked. She saw his mouth open, "And if you define that word so help me God Gabriel Grey you _**will**_ be walking funny for at least week." She smiled when he closed his mouth. She smiled cheekily back at him.

"I love you too baby," he said before looking at Jake, "She's feisty, free spirited, and had me completely enthralled after our first meeting. It took me years before she would see me as a worthy suitor for courtship."

"I had the same experience with Ava," he told Sylar, "It took me forever to for her to see me as _more than a friend_."

"The kiss of death," Sylar concluded.

"Yup," the other male agreed.

Claire rolled her eyes and invited Ava in. The gentleman exchanged a few words before searching for the ladies. They found them outside on the patio four slices of pie on plates. The ladies were laughing like they were friends their whole lives.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" Sylar asked as he sat next to Claire, he gave her a one arm hug and kissed her temple.

"I was just telling her about the drive here you got us lost in Tennessee because you didn't want to go through Nashville."

"Country music is a byproduct of the devil used as a tool to inflict unspeakable pain to those poor unfortunate souls that his minions are torturing in hell," Sylar explained in a serious tone before adding, "And besides baby, you're the one who got us lost because you insisted on playing navigator."

"I did not…"

"We both know you're the…umm…how do I put this tactfully."

"Yes?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You're the directionally challenged on here."

"What!"

"Claire, I love you to death, really I do. But you couldn't find north even if you had a compass to point the way. No, wait," he held up his pointer finger, "this is more accurate assessment," pausing for effect, "Even with a huge sign with bright lights that said '_this way north'_ you would still get horrible lost." He smiled at her, "It's one of the things I love about you and bugs the shit out of me."

"Excuse me?" Claire said completely offended of his assessment of her abilities…no matter how accurate he might have been.

He looked at Jake, "I had the whole route mapped out from California to North Carolina," he told the other man. "Had it committed to memory, but this one insists she found a better route."

"I did!" Claire defended herself, "And I'm _**not**_ directionally challenged."

"Sweetheart, you were reading the map upside down!"

Claire could feel her cheeks red as her new neighbors tried hard to contain their laughter "So," she mumbled, "You're the idiot who let me navigate. Why would you if I only get us lost!"

"Because I thoroughly enjoy necking with you and didn't want to lose that privilege…among others," he leered, "Besides, once you surrendered the map I got us back on course."

"My hero," she said sarcastically as she grabbed his pie, "Jackasses don't get any pie." She giggled at his horrified expression as she took a bite.

"Oh this means war," he told her, "you don't take a man's desert from him." He reached for it but she pulled it away. "Come on Claire," he said, "We got that whole ying yang thing going on. You keep the moral compass and I am the compass for…well everything else." He smiled when she slid the plate over. He took a big bite. "Ava, this is like heaven." Sylar took another bite, "If we both weren't tied down, I'd ask you to marry me right now just so I could spend a lifetime getting fat off of this pie."

"Thanks," Ava said, "that has to be the best compliment I ever received."

"But she's taken," Jake reinforced as he put his arm around his wife.

"Me too," Sylar said as he kissed Claire's cheek. She looked disgusted as she wiped some pie off her cheek.

"So what brings you two from California?" Jake asked.

"Huh?" Claire said, taken off guard.

"Sylar said you two drove from California."

"Change of scenery," Claire said.

"And my job," Sylar added to draw attention away from Claire. He put his arm around her.

"What do you do?" Ava asked.

"Security for those high end clients," Sylar responded quickly before putting the focus back on them, "What about you two?"

"I'm a psychologist," Jake responded, "A few years ago I moved from Dallas. I used to run a women's shelter for abused…"

Claire closed her eyes and tried to turn off Jake's voice. She didn't want to hear about the statistics or the _tragic stories _that could now be classified as her life. She definitely didn't need another reminder that she was apart of a growing number of statistics. She felt Sylar squeeze her arm before pulling her closer to him. _How does he always know?_ Sylar's voice filled the air but she couldn't understand the words.

"Claire?"

"Hmm," she said focusing on her pseudo husband's voice.

"You okay?"

"Sorry, I got distracted," she brought her attention back to her guests, "So how did you to meet?"

Ava and Jake exchanged looks before Ava said, "We met in Dallas. I was visiting my sister for two weeks. I met Jake the first day and we spent time together every day after that. When I came back home to take care of my mother, we wrote letters, spoke on the phone, and visited on the weekends. He was my best friend."

"The kiss of death rears its ugly head," Sylar commented. He stopped Claire's elbow from making contact with his body. Instead he pulled her hand up to his mouth and gave it a kiss.

"He's right you know," Jake said, "I tried so hard to get out of the friendship boat."

"What changed?" Claire asked.

"My mother got really sick," Ava said, "I thought she was going to die. I called Jake before I even thought of calling my sister." Ava took a breath as she tried to hold back the tears of the memory. "Jake dropped everything and stayed with me for three weeks. My mother recovered, thank God. That moment before I knew she was going to be okay, I looked at Jake. I saw the love and devotion in his eyes and it was like the blinders were lifted from my eyes. I knew I was terribly in love with my best friend."

"After her mother started taking a turn for the better, she laid a big one on me." Jake said with a smile as he remembered their last first kiss.

"After that, the phone calls, visits, and letters increased," Ava said.

"Eventually, I realized how much I hated saying good bye to her and moved here to be with her," Jake continued the story, "Because of her mother's health issues; she wasn't able to move to Texas with me. So I left my practice and started a shelter in Elizabeth City."

"A few months later we were married." Ava finished the story.

"That's beautiful," Claire said as she wiped stray tears.

"What about you two?" Ava asked with excitement brewing in her eyes, "I love hearing how couples fell in love."

"I stalked her." Sylar said bluntly, "I stalked her from one end of the country to the next. I basically wore her down until she had no choice but to love me back."

"He's kidding," Claire said as she elbowed him. Plastering a fake smile to her face, Claire silently prayed to God that is not how Sylar saw the beginning of their relationship. There was just no way to make _I wore her down until she gave in_ sound romantic. "I met Sylar in high school. He was intimidating," She started to weave a story that was based off of their lives together but changed some of the details to make it less like the truth of a serial killer chasing his prey and more like how she grew to love him today.

"How were you able to date?" Ava asked, "I'm sorry, but you met him in high school and he's obliviously older than you."

"Only seven years," Sylar defended their age differences. _Hello That Kutcher kid married someone twenty hears his senior_, "Besides, I didn't court Claire while she was underage."

"The differences in our ages were a moot point anyways, my first impression of him was someone to runaway from," Claire said, "I could never see a future with him. Sylar on the other hand—"

"I really wanted to corrupt her!" Claire elbowed him in the stomach "Ompf!" he grunted out as he glared at her as she tried to look innocently back at him. "But then something changed after spending more time with her. When I thought of the future, it always changed. But the one constant in each dream was Claire. She was standing next to me in each dream I had." He winked at the object of his affections, "It was tricky because I always knew she was special, but I also new that she was off limits," he continued, "Plus her father hated me…well he still hates me." He waited a beat before adding, "Well more like despises my existence and wants to slowly torture me to death—"

"He's exaggerating," Claire interrupted Sylar's rant, "My dad doesn't hate him to _that_ extreme."

"But what changed?" Ava asked Claire, "What made you stop hating him and start seeing him differently?"

Claire inhaled deeply. Poor Ava had no idea the loaded question she was asking. "College," Claire said after a few moments to compose herself and find her voice, "I ran into Sylar again. He had changed. He wasn't the self center-the world revolves around me-bastard I met in high school."

"She on the other hand was still that moralistic pain in the ass that still could captivate me," Sylar explained.

Claire rolled her eyes as she looked up at Sylar. This part of the story was true. Sylar had changed, whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not. "I was having trouble with my physics class and Sylar was the teaching assistant for the class."

"I tutored her," he told her, "and the more time I spent with her, the more I wanted to know about her."

"I know the feeling," she said sincerely as she looked into his memorizing brown eyes.

"The major obstacle was that I was falling hard for this _insane_ woman," Sylar said, "but she was in my physics class so I couldn't pursue her. University had a strict policy against faculty dating students. It was frowned upon if the student wasn't in your class and grounds for expulsion and termination if the student was in your class. My shining star was once again a forbidden fruit."

"No!" Ava said upset as she was really getting into their story.

"I thought I could wait until she was out of my class," Sylar explained, "but the following semester she was in my class again."

"I didn't know how hard it was for him at the time," Claire added to the story as she thought of the past week where Sylar struggled to keep a distance between them. "I just wanted to be near him and the only way I could see him was by signing up for his classes."

"This left me with only three options," Sylar said, "because I really wanted to court her immediately and not wait for her academic career to be completed."

"Besides, some jackass could have tried to steal her while you were waiting," Jake interrupted.

"Exactly!" Sylar exclaimed. "In order for me to be free to pursue her, she would either need drop the class, wait until the end of the semester before approaching her and praying to God that she didn't sign up for any more of my classes, or I quit."

"You didn't!" Ava gasped as she had a feeling what the end result was.

"I quit my job," Sylar said, "I loved what I did, but I had a feeling I would love her more. It was the best decision I made in my life."

"He still says that," Claire tried to add but Sylar interrupted her.

"I'd do anything for Claire."

"But what he didn't know is that I would have dropped the class in a heart beat if he would have explained the situation to me," she explained, "After he quit, I withdrew from the class. I really hated physics and I only took that class to be with him."

"But I couldn't tell her that because I would never ask her to sacrifice her education for me," Sylar said, "Jobs come and go, but when you find _the one_, nothing should stop you from making her yours." He looked at her when he said it, hoping she could read between the lines. He would never ask her to choose between him and her family. The quick kiss on his lips let him know that she knew.

"And trust me;" Claire told the couple, but continued to look at Sylar, "Nothing could deter him."

"I was determined." Sylar responded as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes.

"You were something alright," Claire said playfully before giving a chastise kiss on the cheek.

"Wow," Ava said, "Did you regret it?"

"Not for one moment," Sylar responded immediately as he brought his attention back to their guests, "When she screamed at me that she loved me for the very first time, it made everything that I did to get to that moment worth it."

"Wait," Ava said trying to wrap her mind around the story, "The first time you said 'I love you' to him you screamed it at him?"

"He screamed it back," Claire defended herself. They shared a smile as they both just realized that the first time they exchanged those words was during a screaming match. "We were arguing. I can't remember what brought on the argument. I just remember saying '_If you're too chicken to say it, then I will—I love you!_"

"And I countered with a firm '_no you don't_' which I'm sure I'll never live down."

"That sounds intense," Ava said.

"Not really," Claire said, "It's just us."

"But enough about us," Sylar said, "What do people do to have fun around here?"

"Well, I'm hosting a charity fund raiser in a few days," Jake said, "If you can make it, I'd love to see you there."

"What's the charity?" Claire inquired. She inherited her adoptive mother's big heart for those who were in need.

"It's the shelter I helped establish Elizabeth City. It's for abused women and children. It's a safe haven while we help them transition into a healthier life away from the abuser. It's our annual fund raiser." Jake disclosed to the couple across from him. "This fund raiser takes in a big portion of our budget for the year."

Chills ran up Claire's spine as she wondered if she would be able to spend an entire evening hearing stories that might hit too close to home. What if she ran into her therapist? How awkward would that be? She doesn't want her neighbors to know how messed up she is!

Sylar could feel her tension as he put his arm around her, "We'll see," Sylar said, "and if we can't make it we would definitely make a donation to such a worthy cause." He drew his attention to Claire, "Those are incredibly strong ladies, to survive that and still come out fighting. I have the highest admiration for them." He looked back at Jake, "Just let me know the details and I will consult our schedules."

"Thanks," Jake said.

"We should get going," Ava said, "I have to get to the nursing home before 3pm."

"Is that were your mother is staying?" Claire asked.

Ava stopped and closed her eyes, "I volunteer there," she explained, "My mother died a few months after our wedding."

"I'm sorry," Claire replied. She felt horrible for bringing those memories to the surface.

"Don't be," Ava said, "she was able to see her youngest daughter's wedding and she was surrounded by those people she loved most in the world when it was time for her to meet Daddy."

"That's how I would like to spend my final moments on earth," Claire said. Her words were true, even though she knew she would never really die, "Your mother was very lucky."

"That's how I chose to see it," Ava said, "So I know we just met and I probably made a horrible impression with the whole 'kid in the candy store- enthusiasm when we met…"

"Find the point dear before you overwhelm her," Jake encouraged.

"But would you like to have lunch sometime?"

"I'd love to," Claire smiled at the thought of this woman being a good friend of hers. It gave a sense of normalcy.

"Yeah!" she said before she hugged Claire. "Let's leave the husbands to their own devices," she whispered.

"Deal," Claire winked.

"Sylar or do you prefer Gabriel?" Ava asked, "I heard Claire call you both."

"Sylar's a nickname," he said.

"He loves watches."

"They're timepieces Claire," Sylar corrected her, "and it's a hobby."

"Well Sylar," she hesitated until Sylar nodded approval, "It was nice to meet you."

"You too," he said as he shook the woman's hand. "Jake."

"Sylar," he said as he shook the other man's hands, "See you around."

"Sure." Sylar wrapped an arm around Claire and closed the door with the other hand.

"I like her," Claire said with a smile.

"She's kind of flakey." He looked down at her shocked face. "Come on," Sylar tried to defend himself, "She was so bouncy when I opened the door I thought she was high on an illegal substance!"

"She was just anxious," Claire defended her new acquaintance, "And I like her. So deal with it!"

"Yes dear," Sylar said and smiled when her face lit up, "So what is on the agenda for tonight?"

Claire grunted, "Why can't you speak English?"

"I do converse in English sweetheart," he deadpanned.

"I meant everyday English like the rest of us!"

"I contest that I do," he retorted, "So I ask again, what is on the agenda for this evening?"

Claire pulled herself up on the counter in the kitchen with some assistance from Sylar. "How about," she drawled out as she pulled him closer, "a little of this," she kissed him, "and some of that." She kissed him again.

"I think I will like tonight's schedule of events." He leaned in to kiss her as she snorted at his choice of words. "Very attractive my dear," he teased as he placed butterfly kissed along her jaw until he reached her lips.

"I thought so," she mumbled into his kiss.

* * *

_Wednesday_

Claire wondered around the house looking for Sylar. When she woke up this morning, he wasn't in bed beside her. The first morning since they were brought back together that she woke up alone. She walked outside and saw him on a ladder installing what looked like a camera. "What'cha doing?" she drawled out. She smiled when she saw his body visibly flinch with her poor grammar skills. If he only knew she'd stop saying it if stopped overreacting to it.

"How many times do I have to remind you that what'cha is not a word?"

"Until I no longer find enjoyment in your reaction," she said.

"You're impossible."

"It's all part of my charm," she teased. "So, what are you doing?"

"Installing security cameras," Sylar said, "It bothered me yesterday when Jake and his cocaine addicted wife…"

"She's not a crack addict!" Claire immediately defended their eccentric neighbor.

"Came over and I couldn't see how it was until I looked in the peephole," Sylar continued without acknowledging her interruption. "This is the last one," he explained, "I have recording the entrances, garage, and the loft apartment above the garage. I'll show you how to work the monitors."

"When did you have time to do all this?"

"Last night after you hit your REM cycle," he told her, "I couldn't sleep knowing that I was moronic enough not install security cameras."

A smile broke out on her face as she shook her head as she wondered for the umpteenth time who this man was before her. If she hadn't seen the transformation, she would have never believed a monster like Sylar could change into the kind and considerate person before her. She could still see traces of the monster that hunted her in him, but only when he was protecting her. Claire silently wondered how much her life would have differed if she would have met this version of Sylar in her high school. Would they have been friends? Or passing strangers who never knew the other one's name? But then again, it was his hunger for her ability that had them cross paths in the first place. If this version of him existed when she was in high school, he still would have been a watchmaker in Queens. "Did you sleep at all?"

"You know what they say," Sylar said as he climbed down the ladder, "You can sleep when you're dead." He winked at her before carrying the ladder back to the garage.

"But you're not going to _stay_ dead," she nagged at him. "You need to take better care of yourself."

"I will," Sylar said, "I promise. When _he who shall not be named_ is dead and gone, I'll sleep like a baby.

"Sylar," she sighed as she spoke his name, "You need to take better care of yourself." She could tell by his body language that he was going to brush her concern off again. So she decided to try another tactic. "How can you protect me or better yet, how will you annihilate _he who shall not be named_ when the time comes you are completely exhausted. He'll get the upper hand because you're not at your top performance." Claire looked down as she tried to keep the tears at bay. She wanted him to be healthy and rested so that when the time came Danko couldn't take _him_ away from her.

Sylar let out a sigh as he pulled her into his embrace. It was strange to have someone love him again; someone who cared about his well being. For someone who used to be a self centered bastard, he found himself willing to do anything for this woman in front of him. A woman who had no idea the power she had over him and how easy she could break his heart. "I will take better care of myself, I promise," he told her as he released his hold of her. "I just wanted to get these up and running for security purposes…or quite possibility my sanity. Do you realize how many doomsday scenarios can flood through a man's mind at the dead of night?"

"I have no idea," she responded with a sly smile. He was completely adorable as he rattled off various scenarios that ran through him mind. She cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

"Mr. Grey, you have a lot of nerve!" a female voice scolded.

Sylar broke away from the kiss and turned his attention to the voice behind him as Claire closed her eyes and hoped it wasn't an ex-girlfriend…_oh God…please not a current girlfriend_. She didn't want to deal with the psycho who would date the person he was before. She peered around Sylar to see a silver haired elderly lady with a cane in one hand and a basket in another. Her attire reminded Claire of a 1950's comedy where the lady of the house would dress up to go out for tea with her friends.

"Mrs. van der Wood," Sylar stumbled over his words as he turned around, "How have you been?"

"_How have you been?_" She repeated, "That is all you have to say to me boy!" Her eyes narrowed as she continued in a tone that was similar to a mother reprimanding her child. "You leave three years ago to take care of some business for a _few days_," she continued, "You couldn't pick up a phone to let an old lady know you were okay!"

"I'm sorry—"

Claire held in the snicker. _Sylar is afraid of a little old lady!_

"And then you waltz back here after three years and all I get is 'how have you been?" she continued to lecture him; "You don't do that to an old lady with a bad heart!" She took a breath, "Now explain yourself!" Sylar stood there dumbfounded. "This is where you stop staring at me like a fish out of water and speak child!"

"My wife Claire," Sylar said as he reached behind himself to pull an amused Claire out of the shelter his height provided her. "Claire this is June van der Wood, she lives in the white house across the way."

"Wife?" she said as she looked at Claire, "Are you sure?"

Sylar was taken back by her response. "Yes, I'm sure—"

"I only ask dear child because she looks, as the kids would say— way out of your league," June replied as Claire broke out in laughter. "I made muffins for Gabriel, not that you deserve any for completely ignoring me." She handed them to Claire, "If I had known that you got _married_, I would have made something more special."

"These look wonderful," Claire said accepting the mouth watering bake goods, "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome dear." Ms. van der Wood waggled her finger at him, beckoning him closer. When he was in reach, she smacked the back of his head. Sylar immediately pulled back and rubbed the back of his head as he glared at the shorter woman. "You get married and didn't invite me!"

"It was…" Claire was cut off by the older woman.

"I suppose he didn't even mention the old lady from North Carolina that befriended his crabby ass when he first bought this place."

"I'm sorry ma'm," Claire said, "It was a whirlwind romance."

"Did he impregnate you?" June asked immediately, "Did your father force you into have a shot gun wedding?"

"First of all, her father would rather see me dead than married to his beloved daughter. And second, this isn't the 1950's," Sylar said in distain, "Pregnant women aren't required to marry the idiot who didn't have the common sense to use protection—"

"SYLAR!" Claire exclaimed as her cheeks redden from embarrassment.

"Could you imagine the low cognitions of having such an imbecile's baby—" he was cut off again by his pseudo wife.

"Mrs. van der Wood," Claire stumbled out as she tried to salvage this situation from spiraling out of control, "We got married at the courthouse before he left for his job. He was going to be gone for two months and wanted me to be taken care of if something were to happen to him. We're still planning on having a big ceremony with family and friends." She smiled when the elder women appeared to buy her lie. Claire was grateful she was able to come up with such a convincing lie on the—especially when what she really wanted was for the earth to swallow her whole to save her from any more humiliation.

"Look what you did Gabriel," June chastised, "You have embarrassed your bride."

Sylar looked down and saw his love's redden face. He wrapped his arm around her and chuckled when she buried her head into his side. "I know the pastor told us that being married in the eyes of God the whole-two will be one-thing, but he didn't mean literally dear."

Claire glared at him and she gestured for him to come closer. When he was in range, she took a cue from the older woman and slapped him in the back of the head. "Keep it up and I'll look for a way to hack your half from mine." Taking a deep breath, Claire plastered a welcoming smile to her face and invited the older woman into their home for tea.

June walked with Claire towards the home when she turned around to address the man cleaning up in the garage, "Oh and Gabriel," she waited until she had his attention, "My disposal is broken in the kitchen. Be a dear and go fix it."

"Yes Mrs. van der Wood," Sylar responded immediately as he was grabbing his toolbox he heard her ask him if he remembered where her tools were. He snorted in response as the she didn't own a single tool. After double checking he had all the necessary tools, he grabbed it and headed to his neighbor's home.

* * *

Claire brought the tea over to her guest. She had to stop herself from just sitting in awe of the only person she knew that could reduce the great Sylar to a stuttering child.

"Don't stare dear," June said, "it's not polite."

"I'm sorry," Claire said shaking her head, "I just never met anyone that make Sylar feel small. It's usually the other way around where he's intimidating—"

"Who's Sylar?" June asked. "Are you referencing Gabriel?"

"Yes," she said.

"Why?"

"When I met him in New York, that is what he called himself," Claire said, "From what I gather, it's because he's really into watches."

"Time pieces dear," June corrected.

Just the short interaction with the older woman, she could see how they got along. This was the fifth time June felt the need to correct her grammar or choice of words. She could see a little of Sylar in June's mannerisms and it scared the hell out of her. Claire was grateful she met Ava who seemed normal despite Sylar's protests. Claire didn't think she could handle living in a community full of Sylar-like people.

"How did you really meet Gabriel," June asked, "I'm sorry to be so forward but you just don't seem to interact in the same social circles. And I do not mean wealth. I'm just struggling with the idea of someone has beautiful and spirited as you to even look at Gabriel twice. Much less fall in love with him and marry him."

Claire admired her loyalty to Sylar and couldn't help but wonder how this bizarre friendship came to light. She retold the story she told Jake and Ava this morning but added more to it. The one thing Claire was certain wasn't a lie was the part of them being in a whirlwind romance. Because that was what she was feel with every moment she spent with him she felt swept up in it all. She could feel herself falling harder and deeper for him. "It was Kismet," Claire summed it up; "We were at the right place at the right time. If I would have been so focused on proving that I wasn't some dumb blonde, I wouldn't have been in that physics class, over my head and needing extra help from the teacher's assistant. I never would have seen Gabriel again. I wouldn't have spent a semester getting to knowing him. I can already tell you're protective of him Mrs. van der Wood—"

"Call me June."

"June," Claire said, "but I'm crazy about him. I didn't think I could love someone like I do him."

"I can see that dear," she said reaching over and patting Claire's hand, "Just take good care of him. He is a tortured soul."

"I know," Claire told her as she squeezed her hand. "Can I ask you something?"

"You want to know how I know your husband."

"If it's not too forward."

"Nonsense child," June said as she waved her hand to dismiss Claire's comment. "It was over five years ago. Gabriel was arrogant and completely clueless."

"I'm sorry but did you just say that Gabriel Grey, my husband was clueless?"

"Yes dear," June said as she continued telling the story of her first encounters with Sylar. June had came over with a welcome basket full of bake goods when she saw the furniture in the truck waiting to be signed off. She had sent the men away and as the truck left she met a fuming man. Her response to him was a simple _"You don't live in a cave boy. Now drive me to the store and we'll pick out the correct furniture." _June told Claire how she took the younger man to the furniture store and picked out all of his furniture—allowing his input only when it was the correct one. She helped him take an empty house and turn it into home. A quick and corky friendship had developed. June husband had passed away a few months prior and Sylar had started helping with the maintenance in her home. It wasn't about saving money, June had more than she could even spend in this lifetime, it was about the kinship that was budding between them. June shared with Claire that Sylar was always coming and going. Sometimes he would stay for a few days or a few weeks. But he always came back until he had left three years ago.

Claire tried not to feel guilt when June shared how his disappearance broke her heart. June had hired a private investigator but Gabriel had disappeared somewhere in New York City and was not heard from again until he came back home with his new wife five days ago. Claire could tell it hurt her to know that Sylar didn't go see her right away. She would definitely yell at him for it.

"I just felt so helpless again," June told Claire.

"Again?"

"Andy, my late husband," she stated, "and I had a daughter, Adeline. She had a big heart and so loved by the people who knew her. She was kind, giving, and so empathic to the world around her. Addie was one of those dear souls that if she saw someone hurting, she wanted to help. It was like she wanted to take away their pain and bear it for them."

"She sounds like remarkable young lady," Claire said, "You must be proud."

"I was, I am." June took a handkerchief from her pocket and delicately wiped her tears. "When she was still just a child, around your age, she fell in love with a man. My husband did not trust that man one bit. He kept saying that that vermin wasn't worth his salt."

"Worth his salt." Claire repeated as a picture of Sylar popped into her mind. His life goal was to be worth his salt.

"In ancient Roman a solider was paid…"

"I know the origins of the expression," Claire interpreted the history lesson, "Sylar always says in order for a man to be a man; he needs to be worth his salt."

"That dear child is right," June said.

Claire just smiled and shook her head at this woman who kept referring to her and Sylar as children. But Claire knew June didn't mean it as an insult because for all intense of purposes, Sylar and Claire were old enough to be her grandchildren. And that's how she meant it, like a doting grandmother.

"Andy always believed that my daughter's suitor was a con artist. He wanted her fortune more than he wanted her. When they ran off to and got married, we were too late to stop them. Andy cut her off and disowned her for choosing the con artist over her own family. I was devastated. Six years had past and my marriage was falling apart over what had happened. I had finally convinced my husband that we needed to find out daughter. She was our little girl and who even knew if she had a little girl or boy of her own."

"He swallowed his pride didn't he?"

"Yes dear," June said with a sad smile, "But it was three days too late. I hired a private investigator who found my daughter. She was murdered by her husband…that vermin that I spent six years arguing with my husband. Defending his honor, saying that if our daughter trusted and loved him that we should too…when this whole time Andy was right."

"I'm so sorry," Claire got up and hugged her.

"He murdered her in the parking lot of some dive diner in the middle of the day," June said as she wiped away her tears. "Gabriel." She whispered.

"I'll call him," Claire quickly stood up and went to the phone, "And tell him to get back home—"

"Not that Gabriel," June said, "I'm talking about my grandson Gabriel."

Claire put the phone down and looked at her.

"She had little boy," June said, "He was five years old when his mother was murdered."

"Did he—"

"I don't know," June replied, "Gabriel's body was never recovered. If that bastard killed him too, the police never found—the police never found him alive or dead. The only person who knows where my grandson is, can't be found either. I hired private investigators, the best of the best, and twenty-two years later I still don't know what happened to that darling little boy or that bastard. The police believe he was murdered. It was the only logical explanation now a man could have been on the run with a boy and not be discovered. We brought Addie home and buried her in the family plot. Gabriel's gravestone is next to his mother."

Claire wiped the tears from her eyes and hugged the woman again. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have your child murdered and never know what happened to your grandson.

"Would you like to see a picture?" June said.

"I would love to," Claire said with a sad smile.

"I only have one picture of him," June said looking for her purse. "Their apartment was emptied when the police came. This was the only picture Addie has in her pocket at the time." She paused trying to remember where she left her purse. "He has jet black hair and the cutest brown eyes, milk chocolate like his mother—"

"And grandmother," Claire pointed out.

The other woman's smile grew at the thought of her grandson having her eyes. June frowned when she realized she couldn't find her purse. "Have you seen my purse dear?"

"You didn't have one," Claire responded, "All you had with you was the basket."

June shook her head, "I guess they are right, memory is the first thing to go with age."

"You're not old."

"You're sweet child," June said as she briefly placed her hand on Claire's cheek, "I can see what Gabriel sees in you. You have a kind and old soul."

"Thank you," Claire said, "Please forgive Sylar's thoughtlessness in not contacting you. I've been selfish with him."

"You've been honeymooners," June corrected, "Now I'm going to stop intruding on the lovey dovey time."

"You never were intruding," Claire told the older woman, "But a warm welcome into our home."

"I'm going to tell that boy he struck gold with you," June said as she hugged Claire good bye. June started walking back to her home when she passed another visitor in the Grey's driveway.

Claire heard the knock on the door and thought it was June coming back for her basket. She grabbed the item and ran to the door without checking the monitor Sylar had installed. "June I have your basket—" she stopped dead in her tracks and dropped the basket, "You're not June."

"Hello Claire."

* * *

June went to open the door when it flew open. She let out a startled scream and put her hand over her heart, "Jesus Gabriel! Are you trying to give me a heart attack," she scolded him.

"I'm so sorry," he said immediately has he set his toolbox down and helped her to the couch, "Can I get you anything?"

"Maybe a bell for your neck," she muttered, "You are too sneaky."

"I thought you'd still be at my home with my," he smiled as he said, "wife."

"Disgusting."

"What?"

"That lovey dovey look in your eye," June stated with an impish grin on her face, "You're wife had the same look on her face."

His face broke out into a huge grin before he could even stop himself. Claire was truly turning him into a love sick fool. "I would love and stay to catch up—"

"But you have a wife waiting for you," June finished.

"Yes I do," his smile grew, "But I will be back tomorrow."

"You better be young man," she said in a serious tone, "You are not allowed to just drop off the planet like that again. You hear me?"

"Yes ma'm," Sylar responded.

"And bring that wife of yours," she requested, "I rather enjoy her company."

"I will June." He smiled at the older woman. Even if their marriage was a farce, something warmed his heart with the knowledge of June's approval of his wife. "I should get going. Claire's probably wondering what's taking me so long." He felt his phone vibrate as he pulled it out to check the text.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that Gabriel," June told him, "You have company. One of your old friends I suppose."

Sylar's body went ridged at June's words. He didn't have any friends. And most importantly, no one knew of his home here. "Who was it?" He said to his phone that was notifying him of the security breach.

"I don't know," June replied, "I couldn't see their face."

"Their?" Sylar questioned as he pulled up the security feed to see the intruder.

"It was hard to see their face," June told him, "They were wearing oversized glasses, baseball cap, and a hoodie. Thinking back, it was rather suspicious…" June looked up when she heard her front door slam open, "Gabriel?" she called out. She followed him, as quickly as her old bones would allow her. When she reached the front door she nearly tripped over his toolbox. Looking into the horizon, her neighbor was nowhere in sight. "How fast does that boy run?" she muttered under her breathe as she went to his house to check on her neighbors.

* * *

He reached his home within seconds. The front door was left slightly ajar. The home was empty, and the only heart beat he could hear was his own beating his in head. "Claire!" he yelled as he ran through the house looking for her. There was no sign of Claire or of a forced entry which told him that Claire opened the door to the intruder He searched the grounds but was unable to find her. "Claire!" he yelled again. Taking the mobile phone from his pocket he dialed Claire's number. The _Twilight Zone_ ran in his ears as he followed it to the phone lying on the coffee table with her purse a few feet away. He ran to his computer that ran the security feed. He watched as the masked figure briskly walked down the driveway to his home. When Claire opened the door, after a few seconds, the person grabbed Claire's arm and dragged her out of their home. Tracing their movements to the garage, Sylar watched as Claire and the hooded figure took his mustang and drove off. Two thoughts raced through his mind. He had failed to protect her and—

"Gabriel, what's wrong?"

"Claire's gone."


	14. Heart Palpitations

AN: This chapter is dedicated to Darned4AllEternity who has faithfully beta my story after my last beta was unable to do so anymore. Unfortunately, our journey as beta-author has come to an end by unforeseen events. I wish you luck and will miss your essence and wit.

If anyone reading this is interested in being my beta, let me know. If I don't even up finding one, I will continue the story and apologize profusely for the errors.

Onward to the next chapter in the Claire/Sylar saga.

* * *

**Chapter 14 Heart Palpitations **

Sylar could feel his heart pounding against his chest cavity. He was sure if it wasn't for Claire's ability he would have suffered from a myocardial infarction or two as his skin broke out into a cold sweat. He grabbed his chest as the pressure built, before pain shot through his left arm, "_That one hurt like a bitch."_ Breathing started to become an issue when he tried to take a deep breath as his chest cavity restricted again. "_How could this happen? This can't be happening! I cannot lose another person __**to my incompetence**__!"_ He had only left her alone for an hour at most. The majority of the time was spent with the confused elderly woman before him. Thoughts of his ineffectiveness to protect Claire started to diminish as he closed off the humanity that Claire's presence brought back to life in exchange for the cold calculating serial killer from her nightmares. He would be the monster she needed him to be and bury the useless and pathetic man deep inside himself.

"Gabriel dear," June said softly as she put her wrinkled hand on his arm, pulling his attention to her, "What happened? What do you mean Claire's gone? I left her only ten minutes ago."

"I mean she's gone!" Sylar snapped at her as he pulled away. He didn't have time for this nuisance. Not when Claire was taken. "That bastard took her." His fingers sped over the keys as he watched the footage while he tried to get a clear image of Danko's face.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"You wouldn't understand," he practically snarled at her as his eyes fixated on the images on the screen. He wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him because Claire looked almost amused at the mysterious figure at the door before she was dragged out. "_What the hell?" _He focused on the figure whose stature seemed too small to be Danko's.

"I'm sure she is perfectly fine," June said in an overly motherly tone. "Just call her." June's eyes followed his movements. He clearly looked frustrated that he wasn't getting any answers from the video feed. He started to pass by her and she grabbed his wrist in an attempt to regain his focus.

"I have to go," he said as he pulled away from her for the second time. "I have to find her before that bastard hurts her again!"

"Gabriel Grey, get a hold of yourself _right now_! What do you think happened to Claire?" June asked as she tried to keep an authoritative tone but her voice had a slight quiver to it. Her Gabriel was acting out of character and this man before her frightened her beyond words. It seemed the only one to break this spell he was under was his young wife and she was nowhere to be found to help ease the young man's turmoil.

"If that fucker—"

"Language, Gabriel," June reprimanded, but he disregarded her interruption.

"—thinks he can just take her away again and..." his voice trailed off. Sylar closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as the monster beat back down the love-sick puppy that left Claire unprotected. The fact that he was still here humoring this old woman before him angered him more. _Sylar_ wouldn't be talking and bitching to himself; _Sylar_ is a man of action. _"Claire __**does**__ make me stupid,"_ he thought quickly before he moved away from June. "I'm going to fuck'n kill him this time," he mumbled as he ran outside and took flight, not caring who might have seen. "I'm going to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze the life out of him."

When June had gotten her old, aching bones to the door, Sylar was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Sylar scoured the ground looking for his cherry-red Mustang that Claire drove off in. When he hit the city limits, he flew too close for comfort. But he didn't care. Finding Claire was his only concern, even if it meant packing up and running out of town before the news reporters gave reports of a flying man. His breath caught in his throat when he spotted his car. He quickly landed in the alley by his car, which he ran to and searched for clues. But there was nothing that was out of the ordinary. His ears picked up on Claire's nervous laughter and whipped his head to see her standing in a beauty salon. Her smile was fake as she tried to hide the truth from the hooded figure that was blocking most of his view of Claire. They appeared to be alone as he couldn't find any staff or customers in sight. Without formulating a plan or an exit strategy, Sylar carelessly raced into the parlor.

Claire's eyes lit up and a huge smile broke out of her face when she saw him. When he got closer she noticed his expression and her smile morphed into a frown. It wasn't _her _Sylar; it was the monster that used to haunt her dreams at night. "Sylar..."

Sylar grabbed the mysterious person by the arm and pulled them away from Claire. Quicker than anyone could process, he had the person against the wall and his hand wrapped around their throat. "Do you honestly think you could just waltz into _our home_ and take her away from me again!" he practically growled out. "That I wouldn't find you and squeeze the life from your wretched soul!" In his murderous haze, he could tell the figure was female. "Tell me where the hell your low-life cohort is!" When she didn't respond, Sylar slammed her against the wall before he added pressure to her windpipe, "Where the hell is he!"

"Sylar, stop!" Claire pleaded as she pulled at his arm.

"Claire, get ready to..." his voice trailed off when he truly saw the woman he had pinned against the wall, "Ava?" The frightened woman didn't respond as her eyes widened. "I'm so sorry," he quickly released her and backed away.

Claire couldn't believe the transformation before her eyes. The monster she knew from high school retreated back into the man she knows now. She could see the embarrassment, guilt... and was that also relief?

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ava nearly screamed as she rubbed her neck.

"He didn't mean it," Claire said quickly defending him. She just wasn't sure how much truth there was to it. The monster inside of him doesn't apologize for his actions, because they are well-thought-out and -executed; he never did anything on an emotional whim.

"He tried to _strangle_ me, Claire!" Ava emphasized the word as she stared at the other woman.

"And you kidnapped _my_ Claire!" Sylar bit back. "Do you have any idea what it's like to come home to the alarm going off and the only evidence you have is a hooded figure dragging away your loved one! Do you have any idea what that nightmare can do to a man's heart!" His voice raised as his tone grew a little more menacing. "How many doomsday scenarios can speed through your mind in the course of a few seconds!" Sylar was nearly towering over his neighbor before he felt Claire's intervention.

Claire grabbed Sylar and pulled him towards her before pushing him into a chair. "What the hell, Sylar!" Her voice had a slight tremor to it. She had forgotten how ruthless the man before her could be.

"I'm calling the police!" Ava said as she pulled out her phone.

"No!" Claire said quickly as she rushed over to Ava.

"He's dangerous," Ava pointed at Sylar who sat hunched over with his head buried in his hands.

Claire pulled Ava away from Sylar to put more distance between them, "You don't understand."

"He's abusive," Ava whispered forcefully back.

"No!" Claire shouted as she grabbed Ava's phone.

"He was _choking_ me, Claire," she emphasized her statement by pointing to the slight discoloring on her neck.

"There is a perfectly valid—"

"He's an abuser, Claire," Ava insisted. "There is no defense for that!"

Claire couldn't stop the hurt from spreading across her face. "No, he's protective of me," Claire defended her makeshift hero.

"Hitting you isn't heroic." Ava grabbed her phone back.

"I know that and that's not who he is," Claire hissed. "He saved me."

"He's brainwashed you," Ava said, horrified. "Jake can—"

"NO!" Claire said quickly. She closed her eyes and inhaled. In order to protect Sylar's reputation, she had to disclose something to Ava that she didn't want to. Claire heard Ava yell at Sylar not to touch her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Sylar holding tightly to Ava and whispering something in her ear then released her. Before she could figure out what was happening, Ava shrieked when she saw Sylar and pulled at her hood to try and cover up her green hair—the culprit that got them into this mess.

"Did you tell him!" Ava hissed at Claire. "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone about my failed hair experiment!"

Claire was completed dumbfounded. Ava was acting like Sylar hadn't tried to strangle her. She looked to Sylar for answers when she noticed him move back to the chair she had pushed him into earlier. He slouched over and buried his face in his hands. She narrowed his eyes at him. He ruined her perfectly normal afternoon with a potential friend with his paranoia. And she was beyond pissed. "I didn't," Claire said, she was making up her lie as she went, "He must be in town for something and noticed his car. We did just up and left without leaving a note..." Claire trailed off as she finally processed what Sylar said when he had Ava by the throat. "_Do you honestly think you could just waltz into our home and take her away from me again? . . . Where is he!" _He had thought that Danko had taken her. With that realization, her anger diminished and was replaced by guilt. She was having a normal girls' afternoon with a green-haired Ava while he was going through hell—all because she didn't leave a note or tell him where she was. Would this be a glimpse of what her life would be like from now on? Sylar, her parents, Peter, anyone she cared about would be freaking out if she went out without telling anyone? Would his reaction have been any different if Danko was captured instead of roaming free? Sylar had been so focused on getting her better that Claire almost forgot that he was going through this as well. She closed her eyes and inhaled. She felt like a selfish bitch for leaving just like that for a normal day with Ava. Her new friend's voice drew her out of her thoughts.

"He won't tell Jake, will he?" Ava asked as the beautician came back.

"Sorry about that, it took a while to find the dye," Brenda said, coming out from the back of the store. "Now let's take care of your hair emergency."

Ava's eyes landed on Sylar's slouched form before turning back to the brunette, "Is he okay?" she asked. "He's doesn't look so good."

Her heart stopped beating for a few seconds when she took in the sight. He looked pale, clammy, and defeated. He didn't look at all like himself—in all honesty, he looked like shit. "I don't know," Claire whispered before turning back to her neighbor, "I'd hate to do this to you, but is it alright if I leave you here so I can take him home? I can come back and get you when you're ready."

"Don't worry about it, I can call Jake," Ava dismissed Claire's offer. She paused before saying, "I would say we could just reschedule so we can get our hair done together, but..."

"Green is an awful color on you," Claire teased. "I guess blonde will have to wait another day." She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. She really hated the dull brunette and wanted her blonde locks back.

"Claire," Sylar said as he reached into his pocket. "You left your purse at home and I figured you might need this." He quickly gave her a peck on the lips and slid some bills in her hand at the same time. "I'm going to head home. You and Ava have fun." He nodded at Ava and walked towards the door.

Claire felt the guilt brew as she watched him get closer to the door. She quickly hugged her friend goodbye and caught up with Sylar before he reached the door. She slid her hand into his and he stopped in the doorway, immediately drawing her body to his and holding her tight. "It's okay," she whispered to him "I'm okay. You're okay. We're all okay."

"I'm sorry I ruined your normal day," he told her. "I'll be across the street at the bookstore. Come and get me when you're ready." He gave her a tight squeeze before releasing her.

"No," she said. "We're going home."

Sylar tried his hardest to persuade her into staying with Ava but failed miserably. Claire drove them home after she declared that he was in no condition to drive. When they reached their destination, Claire took him inside. They spent the rest of the day in bed as he held her as tightly as possible and wished the demons away.

* * *

_Two weeks later, Elizabeth City, NC_

Claire was sitting in Jen Keller's office with her arms crossed as she stared at the young therapist. "He's driving me _crazy_." She moved a little further away from him on the couch.

"Who?"

"The irascible ass sitting next to me." She gestured with her head.

"'Irascible ass?" Sylar mumbled under his breath. "Nice choice of words."

"Are you seriously doing that? Because that was _never _cute!" Claire nearly screamed at him before turning to Jen, "Do you see how annoying he is!" She pointed her petite finger at him.

"What's he doing?" Jen asked.

"He's _smothering _me," she told the therapist as she glared at Sylar. What angered her more is that the bastard had the nerve to look like an injured puppy which made _her _look like the _bad guy_. "Ass," she mumbled under breath knowing he could hear her. She didn't know why she agreed to a couple's session to clear the air. All she wanted was an hour to bitch about him without said person being there. But Jen thought it might be good for their _marriage_ to get this out in the open and deal with it head on. "Everywhere I go, he's there. I'm surprised he lets me pee without his presence!"

If Claire's outburst affected the man in question, she couldn't tell, since he hid his reaction well. "Sylar, can you tell me why Claire feels smothered?"

"Because I'm watching her every move and it's pissing her off," he bluntly stated the obvious.

Jen hesitated for a second; it wasn't the answer she was anticipating. This was the first client to just admit to stalker-like tendencies when first asked. "But... why are you doing this if you know it's upsetting her?"

"I don't ever want to feel those emotions ever again," he simply put. When he noticed that the annoying therapist wanted more, he added, "Two weeks ago, I came home to our alarm going off and Claire was missing," Sylar said. "To say I freaked out would be an understatement. I thought that fucking bastard just _waltz_ into _**my**_ home and took her _again_. It felt like the earth disappeared under my feet and I was falling into an abyss."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Did you just seriously ask me the world's biggest therapeutic cliché—" He grunted when Claire's elbow made contact with his stomach. He glared at said brunette, whose facial expression told him to behave _or else_. After letting out a long sigh, he looked at the young therapist, "You want the truth?"

"Yes."

"I felt so fucking useless," he told her. "I failed to protect _the_ most important person in my world **again**. I felt like that fucking useless twelve-year-old boy scouring the city or waiting by the phone for some asshole cop to tell me what I already knew. That they found her bloody corpse in some dive neighborhood."

Claire took a sharp intake of breath. _"He was reliving everything that happened with Cassie when he was twelve. I did that to him by being reckless."_

He leaned forward. "I couldn't sleep. I didn't eat. All I could think about was the 'what if's' and it's driving me fucking insane!" Sylar ran a frustrated hand through his disheveled hair. "Is there a better security system I could be using? Should I get a mean-ass dog to bite whatever comes near her?" He noticed the surprised look on the young therapist's face before she covered behind her mask. "But then again, who wants to have such a mean-ass dog around that would probably just bite her. Should I have more security cameras covering the grounds or are there better high-tech cameras that I don't know about? Should I get motion detectors or will the fucking wildlife drive me insane by always triggering it? How many different ways can someone break into our home? Are seven home evacuation plans enough or should I be adding more? Does Claire really know number 5 or should we rehearse it some more so she can do it without thinking? And did she really mean if we do another practice drill on it, she would cut off my favorite male part? Because wouldn't she want to use that part too in the future? Unless she's finally admitting she doesn't see a future..." He quickly changed topics when Claire hit him, "Is five vehicles safely tucked away in the city enough or should I have more? Are they too close together or too far away? How fast can Claire really run with those short-ass legs of hers? And for how long? Is she even in shape to run five miles in case I can't... um... _help_ her to the getaway vehicle, because I'm still at the house or being a **stupid jackass** by leaving her alone." He finally stopped talking to take a breath.

She didn't know she was crying until she felt him wipe the tears from her eyes. She reached out and grabbed his retreating hand and laced her fingers with his. She pulled their joined hands to her chest and placed a kiss on his fingers before she put her other hand on his, enclosing his hand in both of hers.

"Should I really be teaching her self-defense because the fucking bastard won't give up until he has her back..." he took a sharp intake of breath when he felt her lips on his fingers, and could feel her smile against them, "because she's stupid enough to try and fight him instead of running away as fast as those short legs can take her scrawny ass?" He looked at her, "I can't lose you too, Claire. I won't... I _cannot_ survive losing you too."

Claire couldn't move an inch under the intensity she found in his eyes. She understood with perfect clarify what he was saying. This version of Sylar that she is very fond of, and might possibly love, saw her as his cornerstone. If Danko somehow succeeded in killing her, he would bury her body so deep in the earth that no one could find her. Whatever weapon he used to kill her would stay wedged. Her body would die. And whatever hope of Sylar's humanity would die with it.

"So if I piss her off with my stalker-like tendencies, well then, too damn bad," Sylar said through her thoughts as he snapped his head back at the therapist, "because I'm barely holding onto my sanity and I need to know Claire's safe for completely selfish reasons." The words "_I need you" _were left unspoken between them.

Jen sat in silence as she absorbed what was literally just blurted out, unfiltered to her. Her eyes watched how fixated he was on Claire, who was crying again. He wiped her eyes and pulled her closer to him on the couch. He was treating her like she was made out of fine porcelain, like he could break her if he applied too much pressure. Claire and Sylar were quickly falling into a codependent relationship. "What was your relationship like prior to Claire's kidnapping?"

Claire slightly pulled away from Sylar and could see the pained expression on his face. He misread her reaction as she leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at the therapist. Sylar was honestly having a breakdown and the doctor wanted to know about their past relationship. "Are you serious?" she asked. "After what he just shared, that's what you want to know about?"

"It's painfully obvious, Claire, that both you and Sylar were affected by what had happened to you," Jen explained. "And it's becoming... no, _it is_ the **only **focus in your lives. Yes, we are here to help you heal, to live your life again. It's your goal for therapy. And Sylar, I can see the emotional damage that this has brought to you. I recommend individual therapy for yourself as well as more couple sessions. But my biggest concern is that the only thing tying you two together is this tragedy. What were you two like before then? You got married for a reason."

Claire looked away. They weren't married, hell, they weren't even... what _were_ they doing? Could it be called dating? Whatever it is, it didn't happen until a few weeks ago. Before that, they weren't even in a relationship of any kind. No matter how dysfunctional their present undefined relationship was, this ruse of a marriage was to keep men away from her. Now, she doesn't know what they are anymore. She spent the last two weeks rotating from being angry to guilty when it came to Sylar. There wasn't an 'us'; there was just two broken souls trying to piece the other one together.

"People form relationships out of common interests, not tragedies," Jen continued. "All the focus you two have on Claire's kidnapping and the repercussions that came with it is not healthy." Sylar was about to correct her but Jen wouldn't allow the disruption, "Yes, Sylar, you went through this as well. Not in the same experience, but you went through it as well. I can see the pain when I look at you. I can see the need to protect her, to shield her from the world."

"What's wrong with that?" Sylar asked. "What's wrong with wanting to kill the bastard that did this to her?"

"Besides that it's a criminal offense?" Jen asked rhetorically. "Let the police do their jobs and you two need to start over or even learn how to _live_ again or this horrible experience will destroy you both. It will ruin your marriage. So my question is what makes Sylar and Claire _you_?"

Sylar and Claire looked at each other and realized they didn't like the answer. Predator and prey is what made Sylar and Claire, Sylar and Claire. Or, that is, that was what they were two and a half months ago before she was taken, before it awoke something inside of him that he thought died a long time ago. They have been hiding from the reality of the world they lived in after Sylar rescued her, and they created their own world of make-believe that only consisted of the two of them—a world where they made up the rules as they went along. And when Sandra's valid concerns threatened their make-believe world, Claire kicked her out for the safety of this illusion with Sylar. Yes, he can keep her safe, and in that particular moment of time, he was also right. Danko was lurking in the shadows, so she made a painful choice out of fear—a choice that did not have to come at the cost of her mother, Sylar had told her that numerous times to get her to change her mind. He could see the world in shades of gray and she was stuck in black-and-white thinking. And right now, anyone who threatens the safety of her make-believe world with Sylar was all _bad_. This revelation brought them both silent and wondered if everything about their relationship was make-believe or if there was some truth to it. They learned so much about each other in the short time they were together and Claire was positive that it was real. It was all good. There was a tiny voice in the back of her mind that kept asking, _"But what if it isn't real?"_

"I have three recommendations," Jen said as she pulled the young couple from their thoughts. "The first is that we can have a couple's session at least once a month but preferably twice a month in the beginning. The second is, Sylar, you need to talk about what's going on inside of you. You can't keep that bottled in. If you're not comfortable with me as I'm your wife's therapist, I can give you a list."

"I'd like that list," Claire told her as Sylar opened his mouth to refuse.

"The last thing, is that you two go on a date."

"A _date_?" Sylar repeated.

"Yes, a date—hell, go on several," Jen said. "Go back to those days when you were getting to know each other through dating."

"We didn't date," Sylar corrected her as he blocked Claire's bony elbow to his stomach. "I don't date. I courted her like any respectable young man should do to the woman he chooses to woo."

"Oh please," Claire responded with an eye roll.

"Okay," Jen said. "Woo her like you did when you were first courting her. Get back to the basics of who you were as an individual as well as a couple."

"Like a new start?" Claire asked.

"Sort of," Jen said. "More like taking the focus of your lives away from what had happened to back to the both of you. It won't be overnight; you're _both_ still healing from what happened. You might not be ready for a physical relationship yet and that's okay. You can take this time to strengthen your emotional bond, reconnect on those similarities that made you fall in love with each other. Relationships are not one-dimensional and they cannot only be about what happened. You need to rediscover... no, _reconnect_ in what makes you, you. At the same time, spend time together just by doing whatever it was you two did before all this happened. Spend the day apart and come together, sharing what happened to each other. It's essential that you have some alone time as well as time together. It's crucial to your recovery as well as your relationship."

"I won't do it," Sylar said in absolution as Claire looked away from him with tears spilling from her eyes. "Not that!" he corrected as he pulled her face back towards him. "I'm going to woo the hell out of you," he finished his statement with a wink.

She snorted in response, "How romantic of you."

"Very attractive, dear," he said before kissing the tip of her nose. "I meant the therapy. I don't need it."

"You do."

"I'm not..." He trailed off to recalculate his approach, "It didn't happen to me..."

"You _do_ need it," Claire said and covered his mouth with her hand when he tried to speak. "Your father sold you to your uncle like some sort of commodity and then you witnessed him killing your mother. Your uncle abandoned you, leaving for you to care for your unmedicated, mentally ill aunt who up until three years ago you thought was your mother. And your best friend was kidnapped and God only knows what happened to her; it had to be so unspeakable, because she killed herself to escape it. To make that tragedy more heartbreaking, you tried to save her when she jumped to her death. You _still_ blame yourself for something that isn't your fault. But _most_ importantly, _I_ see it Sylar." His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what she claimed she could see. "Sometimes when you look at me I know you're seeing her. You need to talk to someone about it."

He removed her hand from his mouth and gave her palm a kiss before pulling her close. "We'll talk about it later."

"Means I get my way and we'll schedule something on our way out to save a phone call later tonight."

"No," he argued. "It means we'll talk about it later."

"I always win when you say that," she pointed out. "It just means your brain needs time to find logic in my request. And it's sound. So let's just cut to the chase and schedule something on our way out." He opened his mouth to retort when she cut him off, "Do you remember what you told me when I didn't want to go into therapy?"

He swiftly closed his mouth and glared at her for using his own words against him. "I really hate you right now."

"That's okay, because I love me enough for the both of us," Claire said cheekily.

Sylar rolled his eyes and laughed. It was a hearty, honest-to-goodness laugh that Claire hasn't heard in weeks. His smile and laughter was contagious that she soon joined in. "Any idea what is so funny?" He laughed harder when she just shrugged. He threw his arm around her and pulled her to his side. Leaning over, he placed a chaste kiss on the crown of her head.

Claire turned her head to look at him and found herself getting lost in his eyes or, what she liked to call, 'those pools of milk chocolate.' She felt his other arm wrap around her. The feeling that washed over her was indescribable—the best she could come up with was that she felt wrapped in bubble wrap; nothing could harm her while she was encircled in his embrace and those chocolate pools staring down at her... daring her to make the first move.

The moment was ruined by an awkward clearing of the throat from the therapist, who felt like she was intruding on a moment. "Sorry," she said as she watched them recoil from each other, similar to horny teenagers breaking apart when a parent walks into the room.

"Are we done?" Sylar asked, his anxiousness to get out of the room evident in his tone.

"Almost," she responded. "As for what happened a few weeks ago, might I suggest, while these wounds are still raw, to leave a note or tell the other person if you're gone?"

"So I have to ask permission to go somewhere?" Claire asked, clearly annoyed with the idea.

"No," Jen said. "More like a courtesy for the both of you, so that you know where the other one is. Claire, if you came home and Sylar was gone and you didn't know where he was, how would you feel?"

"Fine. I'm not his keeper," she said stubbornly as she crossed her arms. "He has a life too, you know."

"Five hours later, he's not home yet."

Claire paused as she untangled her arms and let them fall to her lap. "I'd be worried."

"Would you still be concerned if there was a note on the fridge stating he was at the neighbor's, helping repair something?"

"No," she said. "I'd know where he was. I might even stop by myself."

"Please say in this scenario you're not trying to help me fix this thing," Sylar said with a chuckle, "because I've seen you try and put things together."

"Shut up!" Claire said with rosy cheeks as she slapped him lightly on the chest.

"The next time you're going to leave, I suggest writing a note or giving the other person a call or a text," Jen said. "It's to cut out the unnecessary worry."

"Sounds fun, and I can't wait to start documenting my every movement to Claire," Sylar responded as his uneasiness grew. He was tired of talking about feelings. "Can we go now?"

"Yes," Jen said, and Sylar quickly jumped up and snatched Claire's hand, pulling her up. "Please schedule our next couples' appointment with the receptionist." Jen shook her head as she watched Sylar pull her out of the room. "I'll see you next Friday for our individual session, Claire," she told the petite brunette. "And Sylar, you can get that list from the receptionist as well." Jen bit back the smile when he scowled at her as Claire thanked her as he pulled her out of the room. _"They are quite an unusual pair,"_ she thought to herself.

* * *

Within ten minutes, they were in his classic Mustang as Claire held on to two appointment cards with a triumphant smile on her face.

"What has you so smug?"

"Nothing," she said in a devious tone. "I just happen to have this appointment card for one Gabriel Grey for a Dr. Lee Cooper next Friday at 3pm." She watched as he rolled his eyes. "And how convenient, that it's at the same time as mine with Dr. Keller. Now you don't have to wait in the waiting room."

"I'd rather wait," he mumbled under his breath.

"Why are you so against it?" His attitude towards therapy for himself was getting on her nerves. Therapy was okay for her, but for him, he treated it like he was going to have a limb amputated.

"Why are you so _for_ it?" he shot back. He knew he was acting like a petulant child, and the image of him stomping his foot like a small toddler who didn't get his way came into his mind. It's just that, if that bitch who raised him was still alive, she'd tan his ass for going to a therapist to discuss his problems. _"Special boys don't need shrinks,"_ her voice echoed in his head. He pulled the car into the driveway and turned off the engine.

"After everything that I know happened to you growing up and what you said in that session, you gotta go Sylar. You need help—"

"Have to!" Sylar snapped at her. "It's _have to go_, not _gotta_. _Gotta_ is a piss-poor use of the English language for the uneducated!" She stared at him, wide-eyed at his outburst. "How the fuck you even got into college with that shitty-ass vocabulary of yours is _beyond _me! Did you cheat on the entrance exam!" He didn't wait for her response. He was out of the car and slamming the door before Claire could even process the movements.

She scrambled out of the vehicle and followed him into the house. "What the hell is your problem?"

He whipped around and stared her in the eyes. "Maybe I'm sick and tired of listening to you converse like you were raised in that stereotypical backwoods trailer park!"

She was taken aback by the harshness of his words that she almost missed that look in his eyes. Something he wasn't saying had put that fear in them. "Sylar, it's gonna be—"

"It's g_oing to be_, not gonna. _Gonna_ is not a _fucking_—"

"This diversion plan of yours is not going to work," Claire said. "What has gotten you so wound up!"

"You," he pointed at her, "and your blatant disrespect—"

"I'm not playing this game with you," she told him sternly as he shrugged her off and continued to the living room. She followed him and grabbed his arm and asked in a softer tone, "Talk to me."

"I _am_ talking," he snapped back at her. "_You're_ not listening."

She sat on the couch and pulled him down with her. "Sylar you have known me for years. Why is the way I talk bothering you so much _now_?"

"It's all your fault, you know," he whispered, staring at the floor. "You _had_ to pry open the past from me and now all I can hear is her fucking voice in my head telling me how _special boys_ should act."

"Virginia?"

"Yes, Virginia," he confirmed with venom in his voice and his cold glare fixed on her. "Just how many psychotic bitches you think raised me?" He closed his eyes and whispered an apology—she didn't deserve his anger. When he opened his eyes, he looked at her briefly before fixing his gaze back to the table in front of him. "And I'm completely jealous of you."

"What?" she asked; clearly not expecting that response from him.

"If I chose to communicate so freely like you do, I would be punished." He turned his head away from her so he couldn't see her in his peripheral vision. "Any incorrect usage of the English language would result in getting my ass tanned by a belt. And you... you..." he stuttered over his words, "you communicate like a hillbilly and nothing happens. Your parents still love and adore you. Sandra may or may not correct you, but that's it. You don't have your flaws beaten out of you. So yes, it bugs the shit out of me to hear you speak like that; because the use of proper English was literally beaten into me."

Claire didn't know how to respond to that. How could anyone in their right mind harm a child, especially over something so trivial? Virginia Gray really took Pavlov's Classical Conditioning to a sick new level. She scooted closer to Sylar and hugged him. He pulled away from her and her eyes followed him going to the door.

"You know what hurts the most?" he asked rhetorically. "I can't help thinking of my actual mother. I can't remember a damn thing about her. The only memory I have of her is being murdered at that diner. I am not even sure the picture I created in my head is really what she looks like. But I chose to believe that she was a kind woman." He paused as he stared out into the vast ocean. "Would she have raised me like Virginia did? Would I still have turned out to be a monster?" He closed his eyes briefly and opened them when he felt Claire's small body against his, pulling him into another hug. "Would I have been enough for her? Or am I just never enough for anyone?"

Claire felt his hands on her arms as he gently pulled her away. He shook his head at her and walked away from her. She understood his silent request. He didn't want pity or comfort; he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. She imagined him as a child with those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes. _"How could anyone be so spiteful, so __**abusive**__, to a child?"_ Claire knew one thing: if Virginia Gray was still alive, Claire would be on the first flight to Queens to slap her hard in the face.

* * *

After thirty minutes, she went out looking for him and found him on the dock. She sat down next to him and allowed him to pull her closer. She buried her face in his chest before turning her attention to the stillness of the water. "I love you, Sylar," she said, "all of you. And those flaws are what make me love you and drive me bonkers. You're enough." Claire pulled away from him, "I won't ask you to change or be a better man or whatever those girls say in those television shows or movies. All I ask is that you stop killing people."

"All people?" he asked, silently referencing to Danko in particular.

"Stop killing people for their abilities," she clarified. "I can't fault you for Danko or anything else that could be classified as self-defense, but to take someone's life to obtain their ability is something I will not forgive."

He studied her face as he processed her words. She loved him. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that she was _in love_ with him, but knowing she loved him at _some_ level was enough. She loved the man she saw before her. She didn't want him to change, just to stop killing without regard. He closed his eyes and smiled. _Couldn't she see that she had already changed him?_ As he opened his eyes, his smile grew. He could do this one little... oh, okay, this one _huge_ thing, if it meant he could have her in his life. "Okay."

She smiled back as she leaned up to kiss him. "Okay," she whispered back before her lips met his.

He felt it again. Those heart palpations from two weeks ago. But these made his heart ache with a different type of pain... a good pain.


	15. The Gift

**Chapter 15 The Gift**

_Edenton, NC_

Claire sucked in her stomach and grunted as she tried to zip her skinny jeans for the fifth time. When she realized that she wasn't going to squeeze herself into them she flopped onto the bed and cursed Sylar under her breath. "The bastard is making me fat," she mumbled as she recalled the delicious meal he made for them last night. She licked her lips at the memory of the vegetarian lasagna and swore she just gained another pound from the memory. She threw the pair of jean across the room before she retrieved her 'fat jeans' from the draw. Her frown grew when she realized how snug they were on her. Tears threatened to pour out from her eyes as she walked into the living room to see Sylar setting two plates on the table.

"Good morning beaut—" his smile dropped when he saw her face, "What's wrong?" He was by her side in a few seconds as he embraced her. "Did you have a bad dream?" His hands ran up and down her arms in hopes of soothing her.

"No, worse!" she exclaimed as the tears fell. "You're making me fat!" Claire screamed at him as she pushed him away. "And I can't fit in my pants anymore because of it!" She heard a noise come from Sylar and glared at him when she realized he was trying not to laugh. "This isn't funny!"

"You thinking you're fat," he said with an amused smile, "Yes it is."

Claire glared at him and lifted up her shirt, "Look how fat I've become!"

Sylar stood there dumbfounded. What was he suppose to say? He didn't see much. She turned to the side and gestured at her stomach. "I still don't…"

She let out a huff and grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips. "See!" He stood there like an idiot and it just angered her more. "You have to notice. You're been handeze…"

"Handeze?" he questioned, "Is that even a word…"

"Not now!" she hissed. "These two hands have touched my body since the beginning. You cannot stand there and tell me that I'm not fat!"

Sylar's fingers added some pressure to her skin. He'd be lying if he denied that her waistline hadn't grown a little. But he knew for one thing, you don't tell a woman she's fat. "So it might have a little more inches for it, but you…" Claire looked horrified as she pushed him and tried to get away from him. He reached out and grabbed her arm to keep her from running away.

"Let go!" she hissed, "You insensitive bastard! When a girl asks you if you think she's fat. You don't _agree _with her!"

"Claire," he said serious, "I'm thrilled your boney ass has gained weight." He placed a finger on her mouth and shushed her, "Let me finish." After receiving an angry nod in reply he continued, "He was starving you. I know our bodies heal themselves, but I could still see the signs of malnourishment. Yes you've gained weight. And I don't remember much about how you looked before you were…" he hesitated, "…taken, but when I look at you now, you look healthy."

"But my clothes…"

"Were bought shortly after we got here" he said, "If we were in New York, I'm sure you'd still be able to fit into your clothes; hell go into my drawers and wear mine if it'll make you feel better to drown in my clothes."

Claire cracked a small smile. "Are you sure I don't look fat?"

He smiled at her. He wasn't going to fall into that trap _again_. "You are the picture of fit and healthy," he said before leaning down and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips, "On a brighter note, you get to go clothes shopping." He watched her eyes light up, "Without me of course."

"You take away all my fun," she pouted but accepted the credit card, "I guess I'll just have to call Ava." She pointed her finger at him when he snarled at the idea. "Don't you start, she's my friend and you didn't want to come."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "As long as she's not driving I'm okay with you taking that lunatic with you if it saves me from being your bag boy."

"Stop referring to her as a lunatic!

"I call them as I see them."

"You're incorrigible," she said as she kissed his cheek and went to the table. She understood the logic of his argument, but she still felt there were more inches than there were before she was taken. She noticed the veggie omelet with whole wheat toast and smiled. It still surprised her how well he was taking care of her. For years she only knew him as the villain and she was loving this new side of him. _But still, would it kill him to give me something sugary and delicious? Probably. I wonder what I would do to him if he made me chocolate chip-banana-peanut butter pancakes with whip cream, sprinkles, and maple syrup with chocolate syrup on top._ Her stomach growled at the image in her mind_. I wonder if I could get those pancakes if I told him I'd make it worth his while? Screw it; I'll make them myself…when he's not here to lecture me about taking better care of my body. _She shook her head from her delicious thoughts as she grabbed the glass of orange juice and felt a little queasy after the aroma hit her nose and put it back down, deciding against the juice this morning for milk. The queasiness went away as quickly as it came as she poured her glass of milk. She was going to give her juice to Sylar but remembered his hatred of all sugary drinks and dumped it down the drain instead.

"Didn't want it?" he asked surprised. Claire drank that sugary shit every morning.

"Wasn't in the mood to listen to you lecture on how _god awful_ juice is," she said with a smile as she joined him at the table.

"It is…" he started into his lecture and dodged the toast she threw when he blamed the juice for her weight problem.

* * *

_Petrelli's Penthouse, New York City, NY_

Matt clasped onto the floor after another round of interrogation from Noah. He was sure that his nose and at least three ribs were broken.

"Matt, just tell him what he wants to know," a soft regretful voice said from the doorway.

"Pay close attention Peter because this is the last time I'll say this," Matt looked at the man through his one good eye, the other one too swollen to open, "I cannot tell you what I do not know."

"Matt…"

"You should know that Peter," Matt trailed off as he knew Peter had absorbed his ability. If Matt knew, he wouldn't have been able to keep it out of his mind during Noah's beatings. "But yet you let him do this to me."

"You sided with Sylar," Peter said raising his voice, "My brother's killer."

"That's were you're wrong," Matt said, "I'm on Claire's side and Sylar is the best person to keep her safe." He saw Peter's clenched his fist and was surprised when the other man didn't strike him.

"Why are you so sure of yourself?"

"You mean other than the fact that no one can find them?" Matt said sarcastically. He watched Peter roll his eyes as he exited the room, he added, "If you would just see past your hatred of the truth," Peter stopped at the doorway but did not look at the other man, "Claire could be right here and we could all be working together to bring Danko down."

"I can't work with that man," Peter stated before walking out the door and locking it behind him. Peter walked down the hallway and ignored his mother and Noah.

"He'll come around," Noah assured Angela, "He just needs time to digest what we did. Peter will realize we did what we had to do to clean up Nathan's mess."

"My family will never be the same," Angela said, "I took that risk when I asked Mr. Parkman to make Sylar believe he was my eldest son."

"Peter has a very forgiving heart," Noah countered.

"I'm not sure that he can ever forgive this," she replied, "We need to get Claire back. She's the key to his forgiveness."

Noah looked at her and tried hard to think that Angela's interest in his daughter was not for her selfish reasons. But then again, when did Angela do anything that wasn't for her own selfish gains?

* * *

_Elizabeth City, NC_

Sylar sat across from Dr. Lee Cooper, who was in his mid thirties, dark hair and blue eyes. They had been having this staring contest for the past two sessions. He didn't need to be there. He only came to keep Claire off his back. Sylar glanced at the time before standing up. When he reached the door he turned back to the other man, "Same time next week doc?" he asked flippantly with a shit-eating grin on his face. He walked out the door without waiting for Dr. Cooper's response.

Dr. Cooper leaned back at his chair and smiled at the slight progress. It was the first time Sylar had spoken. Sure it was only five words that came out of his smart ass mouth, but it was better than nothing. To be honest, Lee didn't know why he kept coming back if he was going to be so resistant to therapy. Lee let out a sigh, "Maybe next week will be different."

Sylar looked around before taking flight. He needed to get home before Claire did and ruined his surprise.

_Edenton, NC_

Ava and Claire pulled into the Grey's driveway and parked the mustang next to an unfamiliar black 1963 Mercury Comet convertible with a red interior. "Who's car is that?" Ava asked her friend.

"No idea," Claire said before turning to her friend with a hopefully smile, "You don't think Sylar bought it?"

"Well Mr. Grumpy pants did mention something about you needing a vehicle so he could have his back since I'm too inept to drive _his beloved_ around." Ava rolled her eyes at his remark. "I mean I almost hit him that _one_ time…"

"Three times actually," Claire corrected, "And he's positive you are trying to kill him."

"You're exaggerating."

"The first time was on the third day after meeting you and Jake; you almost hit him when he was checking the mail. You missed him but demolished our mailbox."

"I swerved to avoid a butterfly." She passionately defended herself.

"I'm sure Sylar appreciates the fact you valued the butterfly over his life," after a moment she asked, "Did it survive at least?"

"Not sure," Ava said, "I think Sylar might have stepped on it trying to get out of my way."

"The second incident was the next day when you hit the accelerator and almost hit him," Claire told her, "But you broke the garage door instead. You're lucky the garage stall was empty because if you hit his precious car I'm sure he would have killed you on the spot. You know his weird obsession with his car."

"Funny," Ava snorted thinking she was joking.

"Sylar spent the next two days replacing it."

"That was an accident," Ava defended herself; "I was texting you that I was here and slammed on the gas thinking it was the brake."

"You do know it's illegal to text while driving, it can cause accidents." Claire was barely able to contain her smile.

"Trust me, after Sylar's thirty minute lecture on the subject, I'm well versed," Ava grumbled.

"And the third time you tried to run over the love of my life you almost succeeded."

"You're being overly dramatic," Ava retorted.

"If the music on his iPod was any louder then he wouldn't have heard you slamming on your breaks as you were swerving in his direction _again_."

"There was a squirrel in the road!" Ava said, "I was trying to spare his life but thanks to Sylar's outburst, I hit him."

"Are you really more upset about the hitting the squirrel when it could have been my husband?" Claire asked a little afraid of her answer.

Ava crossed her arms like a petulant child and let out a huff. "So what if I almost hit him three times and got into a car accident with you last week. That doesn't mean I'm a bad driver…" She trailed off when she realized that he might have a point and noticed her friend's goofy expression. "Okay, he may have a point but can you tell me what is his obsession with classic cars?"

Claire turned to her friend as her smile grew. "I've been making Sylar watch season one of One Tree Hill with me and I mentioned that I was in love with Peyton Sawyer's car."

"You don't think he…" she trailed off when the front door opened and the man in question came outside. " Speak of the devil and he will come."

"Huh?" Claire said.

"Hey sweetheart, how was your day?" Sylar said as he greeted her with a kiss before addressing Ava, "Get lost fruit loop."

"Sylar don't be so rude!" Claire reprimanded him at the same time Ava mumbled "Almost hit a guy a few times and he'll _never l_et it go."

"But I have a surprise for my wife that does not require an audience," he waggled his eyebrows for good measures.

"Gross," Ava said getting out of the car, "Please spare me the details. I'll see you later Claire." Ava waved at her friend before jogging down the driveway.

"You didn't have to be an ass," Claire said as she took his hand and allowed him to help her out of the car.

"She tried to kill me Claire," he told her, "Not once, but _three _times." He held up three fingers to emphasize his point. "Why do you insist on socializing with her?"

"She's my friend and I love her quirkiness," she said, "Besides, you'd come back to life."

"That hurts baby," he responded as he put a hand over his heart.

"So this surprise…"

Sylar snorted, "You just told me that it's okay if your BFF kills me because I'll come back to life and now you want your surprise." He tried to keep the smile at bay and to sound offended by her crass.

"Yup," she said popping the p much to Sylar's dismay.

"Must you do that?"

"Yup," she said popping the p again with an impish smile. "So the car…"

"Yes, I got you a car so I can have my baby back."

"Your devotion to that car is scary."

"_That car_!" he said horrified before turning to his mustang. "Don't listen to her baby," Sylar cooed to the car as he ran his hand over the hood, "She's just jealous."

"Do I need to give you two some privacy?"

He paused as he pretended to think about it, "No," he said with a goofy grin as he opened the comet's door, "I need you to get in and put it in neutral so I can push it into the garage."

"Couldn't you just do your voodoo mind thing?"

"With Tootie Fruity watching?" He tilted his head Ava's direction who hadn't quite reached the driveway.

"Fine," she huffed in fake annoyance as she got into the car.

"Can you please continue to display to me how much I'm bothering you by asking you to do one little thing for _your_ car?"

She huffed again, "If you insist." She let out a squeal when the car put itself into neutral. "What happened to _I can't do my funky mojo stuff because Ava's here_?"

"She's too far away to see anything out of the ordinary," he said as the car came to a stop. He opened the car door and helped her out. "Give me a few days and she'll be purring." He patted the hood, "Won't yah girl?"

Claire snorted as she walked back to Sylar's mustang to retrieve her bags. She felt his hand slide onto hers and lace their fingers together before he pulled her closer. "How was you session with Dr. Cooper?"

"I went there, sat in a chair, and came back," he told her, "Boring stuff. New topic. How was shopping?"

"It was a good girls' day with Ava," Claire said, "I really needed it. And I'm sorry for freaking out on you this morning." When they were shopping and Claire realized that she went up a clothing size. Sylar was either clueless or just being nice about her weigh gain. Looking at the love she saw in his eyes, she knew he was clueless. She'll just have to be more conscious of what she's eating and start exercising more to get back to her original size.

"It's okay," he said as he grabbed Claire's bags, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

They walked side by side until they reached the house. Claire stopped when the patio came into view. Sylar had set up a romantic dinner for two. She turned around and gave him a huge smile. "For me?"

"Just a little something to make you feel better," he said dismissively.

"You're the best," she kissed him quickly before grabbing one of the bags and hurried to the bedroom. Sylar followed her with the remaining bags and walked in on a topless Claire. She let out a small scream and tried to cover her chest with the shirt she just took off.

"You left these behind," Sylar said innocently as he held up the bags.

"Uh huh," she responded in a tone that implied she didn't believe him.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he said as he set the bags on the bed.

"Yes, I can," she smiled as he gave her a quick kiss and exited the room. Claire waited a few seconds before stripping off the remaining clothing items and put on a simple yellow sundress. She practically ran towards the living room and slowed down when Sylar came into view. His back was turned to her. She quickly walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him. "So what's the occasion?"

"Can't a man make a dinner for the woman he's sweet on without an ulterior motive?" He turned in her arms and took in the sight of Claire Bennet deliriously happy.

Claire did not know whether to believe that, so she decided to change the subject. "Can I help with anything?"

"Only need you to sit down, eat, and let me whisper dirty thoughts into your ear…."

"Sylar!" She playfully hit him in the chest.

"Or sweet nothings, whatever works for you." He rolled his eyes for added effect.

"You're incorrigible."

"So I've been told." He followed her lead and leaned down to kiss her. When the kiss broke, he grabbed her hand and led her to the patio. "I made a salad," he told her, "Don't worry. I gave myself all the fattening stuff and you all the healthy stuff." He gave her a wink and smiled when she laughed.

They ate as they exchanged stories of their lives with each other. Other times they sat in comfortable silence. They finished their evening in a slow dance as they held tightly onto each other. With each beat of the song, Claire could feel herself falling a little more for him.

* * *

_Friday, New York City, NY_

The door opened quietly. Matt inhaled deeply to prepare for another round with Noah. He couldn't keep the surprise off his face when he saw Sandra coming in with the first aid kit and something that smelled heavenly.

"May I come in?"

"As I tell you every time Sandra, you never need permission."

Sandra knelt next to him and started to tend to his wounds. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't do this," Matt assured her. He winced when the peroxide made contact with his skin.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping Sylar get Claire from that monster," she told him as she continued to tend to the cuts on his face, "I know it wasn't an easy decision for you to make. Sylar is very unpredictable which makes it hard to know whose side he's on."

"It was the right thing to do. If I had a chance at a do over, I would do it again in a heartbeat. He may be unpredictable but his fixation on Claire has been the only consistent thing in his life." A beat. "He wasn't going to let anything happen to her."

"I know and I should have thanked you earlier but I was too busy being angry," she said before changing the topic, "I brought you something to eat. I prepared it myself, so you don't have to be concerned with any poisons or toxins." Sandra knew he wasn't eating anything that was brought to him by Noah or Angela. Peter refused to do anything for Matt until he gave up Sylar's location.

"Are you sure you want to be helping me?" Matt asked, "Your husband will be…"

"He will soon be my ex-husband," Sandra said, "And he should be thanking you for what you did to save Claire, not torturing you."

"Claire's his daughter…"

"She's my daughter to." The anger radiated off her.

"I didn't mean it like that," Matt reassured her, "Love sometimes makes us blind to the truth."

"I know," Sandra agreed, "If I could go back to that hotel room, I would. I'd do everything differently."

"I know." He understood a parent's love for their child. He'd do anything for Mattie, even if Mattie didn't agree with him. But if Matt made a mistake, like Sandra did in Junction City, he'd own up to it.

"I know there is no excuse for anything," Sandra said, "I was completely jealous that she was relying on him more than me." She saw the younger man give her a comforting smile through his battered face. "And to be truthful, I'm not sure if I would have acted the same if it was Peter in that hotel room with Claire." They both shared a disgusted look as they remembered how close Claire and Sylar had become at that time. "I mean in a non sexual-incest way."

"I know." He said quickly, wanting to get off that topic as quickly as they had stumbled into it.

"It was just that, Sylar was the villain, the bad guy who hurt her," Sandra said, "And she wanted him more than me." Sandra let out a small painful laugh. "The crappiest part was that it was my perfume. She was rejecting me because of my perfume. The fragrance was in the air when he was hurting her. Danko made it so my baby girl would never have comfort in my arms. Sylar figured it out but before he could prove to me that it was the truth. I called Noah."

"And we know the rest of that story."

"I'm sorry."

"This isn't your fault," Matt said, "Angela's visions caught up with me. It had nothing to do with you."

"I was so mad when I knew you were working with him," Sandra said, "I felt betrayed. But then I realized that I was the traitor, not the victim." She looked over her shoulder, "I will get you out of here, I promise."

"Don't," Matt said, "I don't want you in danger. Neither does Sylar."

"Are you still in contact with him? Do you know where they are?"

"You know I can't answer that." He told her regretfully.

"I understand," Sandra said. She was well aware that Peter was walking around with Matt's ability. "I hope he comes for you soon."

"He wouldn't do that until Claire is ready to face Danko," Matt told the older woman, "and not a moment sooner. He wouldn't want to put her any in unnecessary danger she wouldn't know how to protect herself from."

"You're wrong," Sandra disagreed with him. With a small smile she continued, "He's a different person. He'll come for you and still manage to keep Claire from harm."

"Sandra…"

"And when he does," she pulled something from her pocket, "Please give this to my little girl. I guess she's not my little girl anymore. She's all grown up."

Matt looked down at the envelope with Claire's name on it. When he looked back at Sandra she had already left the room. He shoved the letter into his boot and pulled the vibrating phone from the other. He breathed in again and willed his body to hold back the pain until he hung up the phone.

* * *

_Edenton, NC_

Claire walked into the living room in time to see Sylar shove his mobile phone into his pocket. He looked pensive as he was lost in his thoughts. Something big was troubling him. She sat next to him and when she noticed his surprised expression, she became even more worried. With his bat ears, she had never been able to sneak up on him. "What's wrong?"

"June is having a dinner party tonight."

"Okay," she said slowly, knowing that wasn't what was bothering him. "Now can you answer my question?"

"I don't think we should go…"

"You can't keep avoiding her Sylar." It still amazed her that someone as terrifying as Sylar could be afraid of a little old lady. A little old lady he's been dodging since that day Claire disappeared on him. The cliff note version she got from Sylar was that he _wasn't pleasant_. Now he was afraid to face her again.

"I'm just not ready to face her," Sylar said as his gaze stayed locked on the floor, "I was such an ass to her."

"She understands that you were worried about me," Claire reassured him, "She's not mad and we're going."

He snapped his head her direction. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything," she responded quickly. And she meant it. She'd do anything to see him smile and not be sad.

"Can you spend the day with June?"

"Yeah," Claire couldn't understand why this was so important to him.

"It's y…" He bit his tongue to stop himself from correcting her. He really hoped she could see how much he was trying to quit shaping her language skills. "I have to do something and I need to know that you're with someone I trust. Someone who also agreed to let me have private security at her home today."

Her body went rigid. _Something was definitely wrong. _"What's going on?"

"I'll tell you later," Sylar said, "Just promise me you'll stay at June's until I come back."

"Sylar…."

"Claire you said you'd do anything," he reminded her, "This is all I'm asking. Just spend the day with June."

"Okay." Her heart missed a beat when he smiled. She let him drive her to June's and watched as he drove off before June could even greet him. Claire could see the disappointment on the older woman's face. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize for your husband dear," June said patting her hand.

"He's been off all morning," Claire said as she snuck one last glance as the vehicle that was not out of her sight. "I don't know what's wrong."

"Well let's not dwell on the unknown and focus on the here and now," June said as she could see the men Sylar hired for protection patrolling the grounds. She didn't understand why he needed them there. June had spent most of her years in this home. It was as safe as a place can be.

"Yeah…"

"It's yes dear, not yeah."

"Yes, let's focus on the here and now." Claire loved the woman dearly but if she continued to correct her grammar, she was going to scream and throw a fit that would put a toddler to shame. She followed June into her home and pulled out her phone when she felt the vibration. A text from Sylar. _If anything goes wrong. Take June and hide out in her panic room. Then call me. I'll come running._ His message left her feeling nauseous and queasy all at the same time. Something was definitely going down today and he was keeping her in the dark.

"I was thinking we should start with the menu."

Claire put on her best smile and followed June into her dinning room.

* * *

_New York City, NY_

Matt was awoken from his uncomfortable nap by a hand covering his mouth. He tried to struggle but he was immobile due to being tied to the chair from his last _chat_ with Noah.

"It's me."

After he stopped struggling, the hand removed itself from his mouth. He felt the rope loosen from his chest and the rope on his wrists and ankles untie themselves with Sylar's mental command.

"What are you doing here?" Matt whispered as slowly stood up. He started to fall over but the other man caught him. "You shouldn't be here."

"I'm here to get you the hell out of here," Sylar stated the obvious. "I don't think I'll be able to carry you the distance we'll need to go, so we'll fly a little and then drive the rest of the way."

"You shouldn't be here," Matt repeated.

"And in a few seconds neither of us will be!" The former killer hissed at the other man. He held up his finger to stop Matt's retort. "Someone's coming. We need to go now."

"But…."

"Fly now, talk later!"

Without hesitation, Matt limped after Sylar and they dove out the window. Within seconds Sylar was flying them both away to safety. When the door opened to the room Matt was held in, Sandra Bennet smiled. She knew that Sylar would come from the other man. She was glad she was able to get her letter to him in time.

"Sandra."

Sandra quickly closed the door and turned to Noah. "He's sleeping. Let him be."

"He has answers…"

"He's still recovering from your last _chat_ with him," Sandra interrupted him with a stern tone that told him not to cross her. "Leave him be." She put her hand on his chest to keep him from going forward. "He's not Sylar," she told him, "He doesn't heal in seconds. He heals like the rest of us mere mortals, with time."

"Fine, I'll let him sleep for a few more hours."

Sandra followed him to make sure he wasn't lying to her _again_. She hoped that she was able to buy them enough time to leave the city.

* * *

_Edenton, NC_

Claire was sitting in the kitchen with June sharing a cup of tea. It turned out that her dinner party was really just a party of three. A ploy she used to lure Sylar into her home. Claire agreed to play along, knowing how important it was for both of them to reconcile their differences. Not that June held any ill feelings towards her pseudo husband.

"I'm really sorry about my part in all of this."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," the elderly woman patted the younger woman's hand.

Claire smiled at her. She could see why Sylar respected her as much as he did. They filled each other's missing voids. June was the grandmother Sylar never had and he was the grandson she would never know. "It was my carelessness that started it all."

"Our life is full of choices and each decision comes with a consequence, good or bad, there are consequences. Gabriel chose to react the way he did."

"But he had good reason to…" Claire tried to defend him.

"There is no excuse for bad behavior my dear little one," June told her in a tone of love she remembered from her grandma when she was still alive.

"Before we moved back here, something bad happened that I really don't like to talk about."

"It's okay dear," June said, "You don't have to tell me."

"A bad man with evil intentions took me for revenge against my fathers and Sylar," Claire confided in her.

"You poor thing," June gathered the younger woman in a maternal embrace.

"Sylar's the one that found me," Claire told her as she removed herself from June's embrace, "He experienced some of what happened to me. So when I left without giving him any indication of where I was. He reacted in fear." Claire bit back the memories and the tears that came with them. She had to do this for Sylar. He gave her so much that she could give him this, the reason why he treated her to poorly that day. "He feels horrible for what he did and he's embarrassed by his actions. That is why he's avoiding you."

"Enough about him child," June instructed as she grabbed Claire's hands, "How are you doing?"

"Each day comes with new challenges, but I'm facing them head on," Claire replied. She couldn't believe she was telling June this. It just felt right. She knew she could trust June with her secret. "Sylar gives me the strength to get through the tough days."

"Did the police find the bad man?"

"Not yet," Claire said, "but I have a feeling that Sylar wants to find him first."

"He was always an impulsive boy," June said with a smile, "Especially when he's feeling overly protective."

Claire looked out the window, hoping to see his car coming up the driveway, "I just wish I knew what he was doing." She hated the queasiness in her stomach that had been there since Sylar left. She hated that he wouldn't tell her what he was up to and it angered her. They both agreed to Dr. Keller's suggestion to tell the other one where they were going. She hated being in the dark. The only thing she could do was sit and wait for him. When the private security guard hired by Sylar for the day passed by, she really hoped he wasn't doing something monumentally stupid.

* * *

_Rockyhock, NC_

Sylar and Matt landed in a field outside of Rockyhock. "That was the last flight we'll have to take. This car will take us to were we need to go."

Matt was grateful. He was starting to feel the motion sickness from the small flights and quick car rides.

Sylar helped Matt to his beloved mustang. "You shouldn't have come from me." Matt told him again.

"So I've heard," Sylar said, "numerous times already. Why not change your tune to _thank you Sylar for getting me out of there_."

"It was too dangerous." Matt responded, refusing to drop it, "Reckless and a completely stupid thing to do!"

"I was careful," Sylar said.

"It's Claire's safety…"

"You don't think I know that!" Sylar screamed at the former police officer, "But I couldn't just sit and play house anymore without doing something. I heard it in your voice Parkman. It was time to get you. Claire's not ready to face the masses, which means Danko will live to see another sunset." Sylar hated that Danko was still roaming free but the knowledge that he'll get him soon help ease the self loathing of his failures to protect Claire. It didn't matter that he was trapped in Nathan Petrelli's body; he still blamed himself for what happened to Claire.

"Careful, I might start thinking you care about me."

"If it wasn't for you, God only knows what would have happened to Claire," Sylar said, "When I found them, he was going to burn her alive."

"Jesus!"

"I meant it Matt," Sylar said, "when I said I owe you. I can protect Claire and get you from Noah Bennet's dirty hands at the same time."

"Thank you."

"It was nothing," Sylar shrugged off as if it was no big deal when a few minutes ago he was practically demanding it. "You need to be at your peak performance when he take down Danko and from the looks of you, Noah wasn't doing a good enough job."

"He was trying to get information on your whereabouts. He wants her back."

"He needs to focus on finding Danko," Sylar tried to hold his anger in, "Not find a new way to bring Danko back to her! Does that neanderthal ever learn!"

"We're on the same side here," Matt reminded him.

Sylar shook his head and mumbled an apology. "I need to…we need to get back to Claire. You can stay with us while you recover." He glanced over at the beaten man, "If you want to sleep, we'll be there in about twenty minutes. I can wake you."

"I'm fine," Matt said, "I'll save my crashing for when I'm on an actual bed." Matt rested his head as Sylar started the engine. The ride to Edenton was surreal. If someone would have told him three years ago he'd be in a car with Sylar trading jokes like they were best friends. He would have thought that that person was mentally unstable or just a complete wacko. He shook his head at the crazy new direction life had taken. The only thing that would make this better was if Janice and Mattie were there with him. Mattie wasn't in any danger from Sylar but Danko was still out there. And now that Sylar had rescued him from Bennet's clutches, he'd no doubt be keeping track of Janice's movements. If he knows where she is that is. No, bringing Janice there would only put everyone at risk. When the car pulled up to Sylar's residence, he couldn't help but be in awe. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sylar's smirk.

"What?" he asked rhetorically, "Let me guess, you thought we were hiding in a broken down cabin in the woods."

"Yes." He responded truthfully.

"Take notes Matt," Sylar told the other man, "When you're hiding take a page out of the US Marshall's handbook and hide in plain sight."

"But Noah checked out all new home purchases, rentals, and leases," Matt said, "He would have found you."

"I brought this place before you forced me into believing I was Nathan."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Water under the bridge," Sylar told him, "I brought it the old fashion way." When he noticed Matt's confused expression, "Through a mortgage and insurance paid out of an account every month. So even when I wasn't me, the bank was still drawing the monthly payments from an account that would cover the cost and them some, just in case you know. The same account that paid for the housekeeper, gardener, and whatever else was needed for the upkeep."

Matt admired the genius behind it. Noah searched homes that were paid out right or rentals paid in cash upfront. Who in their right minds would look for a home that was already mortgage and all the monthly payments were made on time? Matt accepted Sylar's assistance in getting him into the house and up the stairs to the other bedrooms. When his body hit the mattress, he felt like he died and went to heaven right there.

"Now, for treating the wounds, I can do something that will heal you quickly," Sylar said, "but you might not like it."

"What?"

"I can give you my blood, it has a healing agent to it," Sylar told him, "And I'm O negative. That's the universal donor incase you didn't know."

"I'm not that stupid," Matt told him. He took a moment to think about what Sylar was offering him. He would heal faster, which was a plus considering his body had been hurting for over a month now. "Let me think about it…."

"Okay…."

"Inject me now." Matt finished.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Matt said, "My body has been used as a punching bag for weeks now. I could use a quick fix."

"Okay," Sylar said slowly, "Just don't start making it a habit. I would hate for you to become a junkie."

"Shut up!"

"I'll get a syringe tomorrow from the store," Sylar told him, "Unless you'd rather I go now? I can, it's just I've left Claire with June all day…You know what, I can go now and then get Claire."

Matt lay there amused. When did Sylar start rambling? "Can you get a sedative too? I'd like to be asleep while the magic blood makes all my boo boos go away."

"Sure," Sylar said as he walked to the door, "Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want me to get you anything before I go?"

"I just really want to sleep," Matt said, "I haven't really done that since Claire was…"

"I know the feeling," Sylar echoed, "I'll be back with Claire in tow."

"She'll be a sight for sore eyes…well eye," he laughed and groaned in pain at the same time.

"I'll keep her from crushing you with her excitement," Sylar said with a laugh before leaving.

Matt moved around until he could find a comfortable position to sleep in. Sylar sure had changed. He had mellowed a bit. Matt Parkman knew one thing, if he hadn't see it with his own two eyes, he wouldn't have believed it.

* * *

_June's home_

Claire was staring out the window while June was on the phone with…she couldn't remember when she saw it. The cherry red mustang she was waiting all day to see. She jumped from her seat and made her way to the door when a gentle clearing of a throat behind her stopped her. Claire turned to June but before she could apologize June told her to bring him inside. Dinner would be served in ten minutes.

June watched from the window as the younger woman jump into a bone crushing hug. The poor man stumbled back as he was not prepared to meet the hurricane that was his wife. When he set her down, Claire grabbed his face and kissed him. She shook her head and went to the kitchen to check on dinner, to give the two love birds some privacy.

"If that's the type of greeting I'm going to get, I should go away more often."

"I shouldn't encourage you," Claire whispered against his lips, "Especially since you were being so secretive about it."

"I couldn't ruin the surprise you know," he told her. He grabbed her hand and tried to direct her to the car.

"We can't go," Claire said, "Dinner is in ten minutes."

"I'm sure she won't miss us with all the people there," Sylar reasoned as he tried to pull her towards him, "Besides we are underdressed."

"It's a party of three, so I think June will notice our lack of presence. And there is no dress code, so we are perfectly dressed."

"You set me up." He pointed at her.

"I didn't know anything until you left," Claire pulled him towards the door. "Now come on, there is a feast waiting for us."

"But my surprise…"

"Will be there when we get home," she told him. Her tone told him that he wasn't going to win this one. He went in willingly and hoped Matt would be okay for a few more hours.

* * *

_New York City, NY_

Peter ran into the living room, interrupting his mother's conversation with Noah. "He's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Angela asked.

"Matt Parkman is gone," Peter said, "He's escaped."

"Damn it!" Noah exclaimed as he slammed his fist onto the table. He'd lost his only link to Sylar and Claire. Now he didn't know what he could do to get his Claire-bear back.

* * *

_Edenton, NC_

Sylar obediently followed Claire into June's home. Even if he wanted to resist, her tight grip on his hand made it more challenging to do so. She wasn't letting him get out of avoiding this dinner. When he saw the woman he had been avoiding for weeks, he felt the panic quickly rise.

June walked over to him and embraced him immediately. When she let go, she gave him a kiss on the cheek before releasing him completed. "Welcome back Gabriel," she said sincerely, "You were missed dearly child."

Sylar was taken back by her kindness. How could she just brush his poor behavior towards her under the rug like nothing ever happened? Where was her lecture on how proper young men should act? Then he remembered what Claire had told him. _She loves you Sylar. You're her Gabriel. I don't think you could do anything to make her stop loving you. _"I'm so sorry for my behavior."

"Water under the bridge my dear sweet boy," she tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, "Now let's eat. Claire and I have prepared your favorite."

"I don't deserve to have you two in my life."

Claire slid her hand around his free arm, "Well we love you a lot. So deal with it." She smiled when he kissed the crown of her head.

Sylar pulled out the chairs for both ladies before sitting down himself. For the first time in weeks, everything felt good. His relationship with Claire was going wonderfully and he hadn't damage his relationship with June, and Matt Parkman was safe in their guest room. The people he cared about were with him and he was determined to keep them safe. Tonight, everything was just perfect.

* * *

Claire Bennet was exhausted. Spending the day with the elderly woman, who was deceitfully energetic, had worn her out. She was leaning on Sylar as they walked towards the door and left out a startled laugh when he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the house. With the assistance of his telekinesis, he was able to open and close the door with ease. He placed her gently on the counter and gazed into her eyes. Claire stared back into his eyes and couldn't put into words the feelings that washed over her. With renewed energy, she grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt and pulled him towards her, fusing her mouth to his in a kiss. When the need for oxygen became a necessity, she pulled away and felt his lips trail down her neck. Her hand traveled down his back to the waistband of his jeans.

Sylar pulled away when he felt his shirt rise up and over his head. "What are you doing?" he asked through hooded eyes.

"I thought it was pretty obvious what I was doing," she responded cheeky as she dropped his shirt on the floor.

"Claire," he said when she tried to pull him back to her.

"I just want you," she breathed out before kissing him again. She smiled against his lips when she felt his hands pull her shirt up. They broke apart for a second to discard it.

Claire pulled him closer and wrapped her legs around his waist, trapping him to her. She couldn't understand the need that was consuming her. She just wanted to throw caution to the wind and follow her emotions, wherever they might take her. She felt his fingers unclasp her bra and pulled down the straps as he kissed her shoulder. In a moment of irrational fear, she pulled away and covered herself to save herself from potential embarrassment. She was never this exposed to a man before…or at least willingly exposed. She felt naked all of a sudden.

"Don't," he whispered, "You have nothing to be afraid of. I love you and we won't do anything your not ready for." A beat. "Tell me to stop and I will."

Claire responded by pulling him to her and kissing with a fierce passion she didn't know she was capable of. She felt his hands grab her ass and pull her off the counter. Her mind was racing as she repeated over and over in her head that this was it. They were taking that preverbal next step in their relationship. She was terrified and excited all at the same time. But most of all, it felt right. Until she heard a familiar and mortified voice yell.

"Oh my God!"

They broke apart. Sylar placed her back onto the counter and pulled her close to him. He tried to cover her chest the best he could with his arms. He looked at Matt to see him turning around as he covered his eyes.

"I heard noise and you were gone for so long that I thought maybe you forgot about me." Matt couldn't stop mumbling as his cheeks grew red with embarrassment. "Oh God this is embarrassing!" He silently scolded himself for pointing out the obvious.

Sylar found his shirt quicker than he could hers. He quickly dressed her. "I'm sorry," he told him immediately, "June wouldn't let me leave until she wanted me to and then I got carried away…" He started scolding himself for turning into a bumbling idiot. "I have the supplies we need to…yeah." He just stopped talking. _Could this moment be any more embarrassing?_ He couldn't understand why he felt like a teenager getting caught necking with his girlfriend by a parent.

Claire tried to steer the conversation away from this humiliating moment by pushing Sylar back and jumping off the counter. "Matt, I'm so happy you're okay!" She wanted to run over and give him a tight hug, but Sylar stopped her.

"He's injured," he whispered in her ear, "So be gentle."

Claire nodded and walked over to Matt, giving him a small hug. "Thank you."

"I'm just glad you're safe."

"Me too." They all knew that she meant Matt and not herself.

"Your mother wanted me to give this to you," Matt explained as he handed her the letter.

Claire hesitated before taking it from Matt. "I'm just going to…"

"I'm going to get Matt situated for the night and then I'll check on you."

Claire nodded and went to their bedroom and stared at the envelope. She was afraid of the contents. Was her mother still angry and disappointed in her like she was in Junction City? She took deep breaths before opening the sealed enveloped and pulling out the paper. Her eyes scanned over the words as she unfolded the paper.

_Dear Claire,_

* * *

Sylar had gotten Matt back into bed. He injected his blood and was about to give him the sedative when he rubbed the back of his neck dreading what he was about to do next, "Thank you for walking in when you did. Before we did something that she wasn't ready for." _What we both weren't ready for_ was what he wanted to say.

"From what I could see before wishing I hadn't, she wanted it."

"It's more complicated than that," Sylar tried to say, "I don't really know if she' ready, emotionally and physically." _Could this get anymore awkward?_

"Only she can tell you that," Matt told Sylar as he gave Matt the sedative, "You have to trust her on that. Like I'm assuming she trusts that you wouldn't push her into anything she's not ready for. Let her take the lead on this."

"You're right," Sylar agreed as he walked towards the door. He stopped and looked back at Matt. "When did we become people who share again?"

"You mean friends?"

"If you insist on labeling it that."

"Don't know when we became _friends who share_," Matt told him with slight mockery in his tone, "But there's no turning back now."

"Good night Matt." Sylar closed the door and went to their room. Claire was putting the letter back into the envelope when he walked in. "How are you doing?"

"Better…wonderful actually."

"Wonderful really?" he repeated with raised eyebrows.

Claire opened her mouth to ask him something but then closed her mouth. Taking a deep breath she said, "I want you to do something for me." She echoed his words from that morning.

"Anything," he said immediately as he walked to stand in front of her.

"Kiss me," she pulled him on top of her as she fell back onto the bed. "I want you to make love to me."

"Are you sure?" His surprise was clearly etched into his face.

"I've never been more sure about anything than I am of this moment in time." She tried to kiss him again but he pulled away.

"Claire, you once told me that when you took this step it would be with a man who was insanely in love with you."

"You fit that bill sweetheart," she told him as she caressed his cheek with her hand.

"I know I do," he took her hand from his cheek and gave it a kiss. "But you also wanted to be crazy in love with him as well. I can't take that dream away from you." They both knew that her first time was against her will, and he be damned if he would rob her of her first consensual experience.

Claire wanted to breakdown and cry for the sincerity in his voice. But instead she smiled. "Well I guess that's it then," her smile grew when she saw him attempted to pull away from her, "Because I'm crazy in love with you."

Sylar stopped moving and looked down at the angel underneath him. "I'm sorry; I don't think I heard you correctly. Did you just say you..."

"Yes I did," she didn't think her smile could grow anymore but it did when she saw the expression of awe on his face. "I love you. I'm in love with you. And I want this and I want it with you." Claire could still see his hesitation.

"You have me Claire," Sylar told her, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm content with your love. If you're doing this because you're afraid I'm going to leave….it's not going to happen. I'm with you until you tell me to fuck off remember?"

"That's not going to happen."

"I don't want you to feel pressured into anything…"

"I'm not afraid of being with you, well I am, but not that you're going to leave me if we're not _intimate_. I have butterflies because of the unknown feeling in the pit of my stomach. The anticipation that's been building for weeks, the desire to be closer to you in every possible way and the fear that you'll be disappointed because I know I won't be good at it. I lack the experience to be good at it."

"I love you," he told her, "and when the time is right, we both can be bad at it together."

"You're not listening Sylar," Claire told him, "I telling you the time is right. I just want you tonight, tomorrow, and every day after that. Who knows, maybe someday we can be old people in young bodies who are still insanely in love with each other." She laughed at the goofy grin that broke out on his face.

"I can get on board for that."

"Good. Now shut up and kiss me."

"Yes ma'am." Sylar leaned down and kissed her.


	16. Say When

**AN: **A very special thanks to Anna for taking over and being my beta for last chapter, this one, and the next to come-hopefully :D.

* * *

**Chapter 16 Say When**

_Edenton, NC_

The first rays of the morning shone through the patio door and rested on the sleeping couple, wrapped into each other's embrace. Claire woke up and the first thing she saw was his face. _He looks so peaceful_. Her eyes drifted to his chest, where the St. Jude medallion, the one she gave him in St. Louis. _He's still wearing it._ A smile spread across her face as she reached out and touched it. It meant the world to her to see that silver coin around his neck. After giving it to him, she hadn't been sure if he would wear it-a token of her affection and gratitude. Her thoughts drifted to last night. It had been perfect; a perfect mess of two souls coming together. She felt more alive and closer to him than she had ever felt with anyone. _It was what my first time should have been._ It had felt amazing and strange all at the same time.

Her greatest fear about having sex with Sylar was that her body would not react to his touches like she so desperately wanted. And instead of enjoying the moment, she would have flashbacks of being raped. When his body was in position to enter her for the first time, her heart was racing with a familiar fear. No one had been this close to her since _it _happened in the motel room. But then she looked at him she found assurance that this time was different. It wasn't some idiot thinking he was making a pornographic movie. There wasn't a despicable monster with a video camera recording her humiliation as her body was about to be violated. It was only him and her. In that moment when her heart was beating the fastest, he brushed some hair from her forehead and told her that he loved her with every part of his being and if she wasn't ready, they would stop. When her heart stated beating again, it was racing from the knowledge that she loved him as much as he loved her. They had the ability to break the other one into pieces. That knowledge terrified her—that she could hurt him like Cassie did when she chose to end her life instead of fighting for it. When she whispered the words that she wanted this, she wanted him, she remembered promising to herself that she would take extra special care with his delicate heart; like he was already doing with hers.

Sylar grumbled as he buried his face into his companion's neck as he felt her stir in his arms. "Go back to sleep," he mumbled, "It's too early."

"Sun's too bright," she whispered back as she unsuccessfully tried to free her body from his grip to leave the big comfy bed.

He pulled his head from the sanctity of her neck and squinted at the open window. With a flick of his wrist, the curtain closed and he buried his face back into the crook of her neck. "Problem solved, now sleep." He heard her giggle as she tried to pull away from him again. "Why are you moving?"

"I'm wide awake now."

He grunted and rolled onto his back. He looked at her with sleepy eyes. "It's too early to be awake."

"I know," she said with a smile.

"Wait," he rubbed his cheek as his brain started to function through the haze, "Aren't you the one who hates mornings? Because I have vivid memories of trying to drag your sorry ass out of bed every morning as you try to assault my favorite body part with your foot."

"That sounds suspiciously like me." Her voice was too cheerful for six am.

"Let's channel her and go back to bed," he pulled her into his side and felt her lips place small butterfly kisses on his chest as she slowly worked her way up to his neck before reaching his mouth. He reacted to her kiss right away and rolled them over so he was on top of her. "Okay, I'm awake now." He leaned down to kiss her when she pulled away.

"Good," she smiled, "because I'm hungry."

He laughed, "Did you seriously just use your feminine wiles on me to get me to make you breakfast?"

"Well when you say it like that…" she trailed off as she gave him a devilish grin.

He rolled onto his side and rested his head on his hand. His free hand left feathery touches down her arm until it rested on her hip. "How are you feeling?" When she didn't respond right away, he asked a question that he hoped the answer to would be no, "Do you regret it?" He held his breath and waited for the answer. Would she regret what transpired between them and want them to go back to what they were before he walked into the bedroom they shared last night? He didn't think he would be able to go back to pretending that they didn't just share this incredible experience. But, wasn't that the point of love? To let it go to see if it came back? _God, I hope not._

"I can't put into words what I'm feeling," she told him sincerely. She could feel his uneasiness and added, "The only thing I know is that I love you and I don't regret a single moment with you."

"Oh thank God," he said falling backwards as he let go of the breath he was holding, "When you spaced out there I was worried you were—"

"Stop worrying," she told him as she scooted closer, "You worry to much."

"Someone has to," he whispered before kissing her.

"Someone's eager for another go at it?"

He pulled away and made a face, "That sounded awful."

"Well you love me, so deal with it."

"_Deal with it_?" Sylar repeated, "You really need to stop associating with Ava because these little catch phrases of hers are annoying."

"Are you an idiot?"

He opened his mouth and then closed it as he wasn't prepared for the abrupt change in subject. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Well you'd rather talk about my friendship with Ava instead of having sex with me?"

"Well, when you put it that way," he leaned in to kiss her but at the last moment he pulled away.

"What now?" Her impatience was evident in her tone.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, since apparently I'm really awful at this whole _seduction_ thing," she pulled herself up and leaned against the headboard. She pulled the blankets up to cover her chest. Yes, they had had sex, but she was still uncomfortable with being naked around him. Everything that had happened with those guys, it made her feel unattractive and couldn't understand after knowing what they did to her; he could still look at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world…especially when she was feeling fatter than ever.

"A side note," he told her as the hand on her hip slid down to her mid thigh and back up to her hip, "You're beautiful and you have nothing to be ashamed of…especially with that insatiable body of yours."

Claire blushed at his words. _How does he know what I'm thinking?_

"What I wanted to know is, why?" he paused, feeling like an ass for asking. But he could feel her fear last night. That's why he gave her numerous chances to stop the progression of the evening before they did anything that would hurt her and set back on all the progress she made in therapy. As they were coming together, he felt the fear change into something more.

"You want to know why I was ready?"

"Well I was trying to give it a little more class, but yes I was," Sylar confirmed. "You were quite determined last night to have your way with me. Not that I'm complaining here," he told her when he noticed she was going to misinterpret him, "But I'm not sure what changed. During our sessions with Dr. Keller, we spoke about the fear you had about being _intimate _with me. I know we had to keep up pretenses that we were married and have had intercourse before. I couldn't tell her that you're my girlfriend and we've never…"

"Girlfriend?" She willed her heart to start beating again.

"Was I too presumptuous?" Sylar asked trying to retract what he said, "We were dating right? And after what we just shared I just assumed that we were…."

"Shut up boyfriend," she instructed and smiled when he promptly closed his mouth, "It was just the first time I heard you say it." She didn't want to admit it out loud but as much as she loved being referred to as his girlfriend, it felt like a kick in the gut after being called his wife for weeks. _Only in my messed up life would my husband's girlfriend be me._ She shook her head finding no logic in that statement. _Maybe Sylar is right about Ava's stupidity being contagious._

He grinned at her thoughts. Maybe he still had a chance at cutting that unstable imbecile out of their lives for good. "Girlfriend...the woman I love," he whispered before kissing her.

When the kiss ended she smiled at him and cupped his face with her hands, "To answer your question, my mother told me to…"

He made a face and pulled away, "You're mother told you to sex me up?" He retreated to the foot of the bed to put some distance between them. "God, I feel so dirty all of a sudden."

"I didn't mean it like that!" she shouted back at him.

"Then please correct your mistake quickly before I start imagining things that I don't want in my brain that will scar me for life; we both know I'm going to live forever woman!"

"Here," she handed him her letter, "This will explain it."

"Are you sure you want me to read it? It's from Sandra."

"I want to share it with you," Claire told him.

Sylar pulled out the paper from the envelope and handled it with the same care she did last night. Before he started to read it, he hoped to God there was nothing in there that would scar him for life.

_Dear Claire,_

_I hope that by the time you are reading this letter that your heart has softened a little towards me. If not, I understand. What I did to you was unspeakable. I betrayed you because I was too foolish to see anything past my jealousy. I hope that someday you can forgive me for my actions. I cannot justify them or provide any excuses for there was no excuse that could validate what I did to you. My actions would have put you in danger if Sylar hadn't already taken you away from that hotel room._

_I won't be that foolish again. I also won't ask you if you're safe, because I know you are. You're with Sylar and I know he is keeping you safe. And I can bet my life that he's doing anything to help you on your journey of healing. I won't lie and say I'm not jealous. Because I am. I would give anything to be there to help you through this. But I lost that right when I betrayed you. I take comfort in knowing that you're in good hands. I may have been consumed with envy but reflecting on my time with you. I finally see what you could see and I was too blinded by jealousy to notice at the time. He has changed and I pray to God that he continues on this new path he's on. _

_I just want you to be happy. This is something every mother wants for her child. Be happy Claire. I may not know the hell that bastard put you through, but I know you're a fighter…so fight back. Let those around you help you in this journey of healing. You're not alone in this world, there are people who love you; your father, Peter, Angela, Matt, myself, and Sylar. Yes, I know that boy loves you and if he's still treating you like a porcelain doll that can break, kick his butt for me. My daughter is a fighter!_

_You will always be my baby girl. I may not have given birth to you or given you half of your DNA, but you are my child. I love you and I support you in whatever decisions you make. If your heart wants to be with Sylar, then be with him. Don't be afraid to let love in. Because I know I didn't misread what was brewing to in that hotel room between you two! Part of me wants to kick myself for encouraging you to go after a man who's much older and no doubt more experienced than you. But once upon a time an older man came up to me when I was a waitress in a restaurant. And from that encounter came many years of marriage and two beautiful children. Age is just a number sweetheart. And even if you bring home a 60 year old man and tell me he is the love of your life. I'll still support you as I'm eating these words._

_I know that I will see you again. Sylar will bring you back when you're ready. Take care of Matt; he was a good friend to me. And remember sweetheart to follow your heart. You have my love and support in whatever direction that precious heart of yours takes you. And if the rest of the family won't get past themselves for your happiness to support you, then they are not worth the effort to keep in your life._

_Love,_

_Mom_

Sylar looked up at Claire who was smiling at him for being an idiot, "She didn't tell me to…what was it again?_ Sex you up_?" She laughed when he rolled his eyes. "My mother gave me her blessing. You have no idea how much that means to me. As much as I love you, I don't think I could have been with you knowing no one in my family would support us. I don't think I would be brave enough to make that decision to choose love over my family."

"Even if we didn't have an eternity, I wouldn't force you to choose between us."

"I know that sweetheart," she reassured him, "and the main reason I was holding back was knowing that without some support, I couldn't be with you. I couldn't let my heart get broken like that. When she gave me her support, I could be happy with you. Like she said, everyone else can get on board or aren't worth the effort." She gave him a huge smile. "Mom told me to follow my heart to wherever it might go. It led me to you."

"It did, didn't it?" He gave her a goofy grin.

"And I'm pretty sure it's taking permanent residence too." She moved towards him on the foot of the bed. Forgetting her early modesty as the blanket dropped from its once protective hold against her chest.

"I think I can get on board with that."

"Uh-huh," she said before letting out a squeal as he practically tackled her onto the bed and kissed her. He brought his hand between them to move the blanket barrier separating them.

The door quickly opened revealing Matt Parkman holding the fire poker like a baseball bat. "Claire are you okay I heard screaming..."

"PARKMAN!" Sylar grabbed the blankets up to cover them up.

"Oh my God!" Matt quickly turned around, dropping the poker and covering his eyes. "Not again!"

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Matt didn't have to be told twice as he was tripping over himself to get out of the room. He swore he felt invisible hands pick him up and throw him from the room as they slammed the door behind him.

Sylar fell back on the bed and let out a hearty laugh.

"How is this funny?" Claire said with a red face. She was completely mortified and didn't know how she could ever face him again.

"Matt Parkman," He turned to her with a smile, "the eternal cock blocker." Claire threw a pillow at him in response to his comment. She didn't need to be reminded of how he interrupted them about to have sex in the living room last night.

"I'm so embarrassed." She covered her face with her hands.

"And he needs to learn how to knock!"

"He thought I was in danger," Claire defended the former police officer.

"What idiot interprets a giggle for a cry for help?"

"How was he suppose to know we shared a room!"

"Point taken," he agreed before giving her a shit-eating grin, "I'm sure he knows now."

"How is this funny?" Claire asked again, "I'm completely embarrassed. He's seen me naked!"

"No, he's seen me naked," Sylar corrected, "It was my bare ass on top."

"Not helping."

"I'll go have a chat with the houseguest."

"Behave," she told him as she watched him throw on his boxer briefs and jeans.

"Don't I always?" he asked rhetorically with a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed a discarded t-shirt and put it on.

As the door closed, Claire flopped on her stomach trying to forget _the_ most embarrassing moment of her life. After a few minutes, her brain finally processed his last statement. She quickly got out of bed and put on some clothes. Sylar has never behaved in his whole existence and was most likely being an ass to an equally embarrassed Matt right now.

* * *

When Sylar rounded the corner into the living room he was blindsided by a right hook into his jaw. He stumbled back from the surprise attacked and stared at Matt Parkman. _You are not allowed to hurt him. You are not allowed to hurt him! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO HURT HIM!_ He chanted over and over in his brain in hopes to reinforce self control. "What the fuck Parkman!" He tried to say in an even tone but failed miserably.

"You took advantage of her you sick son of a bitch!" Matt hit him again.

Sylar closed his eyes and allowed Matt to hit him again. He didn't know how much longer he could hold back. "I didn't do anything…"

"Really," Matt said sarcastically, "Because I remember you telling me that she wasn't ready for sex!"

"I didn't force her into anything," Sylar defended himself. When Matt tried to hit him again, he moved out of the way. He silently patted himself on the back for not using his powers against him. The bedroom door opening distracting Sylar and before he knew it he was on the floor with Matt on top of him with his hands wrapped around his throat.

"What kind of sick bastard takes advantage of a traumatized woman?" Matt hissed, "I thought you were better than that!" Matt was in shock that Sylar was able to fool him into believing he was better than this. Sylar had threatened his little boy to gain his submission and then tricked him into believe Sylar had Claire's best interests at heart. When in reality Sylar only wanted into her pants and was taking advantage of the situation. Matt was running on so much rage and adrenaline that his brain never processed the fact that Sylar was letting him hurt him. Because there was no way a man with Sylar's powers would be defeated by Matt. Even without their abilities, Sylar was stronger, faster, and in better shape than Matt.

Claire's smile faded when she saw Matt choking Sylar. She wanted to move to help him or at least open her mouth to scream at him to stop. But she was frozen in place as the memory washed over her.

_Claire was struggling to break free from him. The red headed man slapped her in the face and Claire could hear Danko's laughter of approval. She couldn't look at him to see the camera fix on her. _How could one man be so perverse and spiteful?_ She thought to herself. The man's hands wrapped around her throat and she immediately clawed at his hands to try and break free. She didn't know where Danko found this sicko, but he was a real big fan of S&M. "HELP ME!" she screamed, hoping the people in the next room could hear her over the music as the man released a hand from her throat to rip off her underwear._

It felt like they were run over by a bulldozer when the images running through Claire's mind reached their consciousness. Sylar used his telekinesis to throw Matt off of him and scrambled to get to Claire as she fell over. Sylar started talking to her, hoping to pull her out of there and back to reality.

Matt stood there shell shocked at the scene before him. It was hard to distinguish reality from the images in Claire's mind. He felt physically ill as he witnessed the memory of her being abused and raped; knowing there was nothing he could do to help her.

_The room started to fade and she couldn't feel the weigh of the man on top of her anymore. She looked around and could only see a field. Her ripped clothes were replaced with a simple white sundress. "Where am I?" she asked the open air._

"_You're safe now," a familiar voice told her. She turned to see a barefoot Sylar standing there dressed in white as well. "I'm here." Claire ran into his waiting arms and felt that peace that comes from his tight embrace and unique scent. "Nothing's ever going to happen to you again. I promise. Just come back to me Claire."_

Claire opened her eyes and saw those compassionate milk chocolate eyes staring down at her. She threw herself at him and held on tightly to him. She couldn't stop crying and apologizing for not helping him with Matt.

"I'm sorry," Matt admitted, feeling like the world's biggest ass for triggering that memory. What made him feel like a bigger jackass is the first thing out of her mouth was an apology for not helping Sylar when he was choking him. Sylar held out his hand, Matt couldn't understand what he wanted from him. It took a few minutes before a glass of water floated past him to Sylar, quickly followed by the phone. Matt watched as the phone stayed floating by his hand as Sylar held the glass for Claire to drink from. She buried herself into his body when she was done.

Sylar set the water down and grabbed the phone. It took two rings before the she answered. "Dr. Keller, its Gabriel Grey."

"_Hi Sylar, what can I do for you?"_

"There's been an incident with Claire," he said quietly, "Are you available for a session today?"

"_I can see her right away, when can you get here?"_

"Thirty minutes."

"_I'll be waiting."_

Sylar let the phone drop and picked up Claire. Matt obediently followed mumbling apologies that fell on deaf ears as Sylar put on their shoes and carried her to his car. Matt climbed in the back as Claire meshed herself into Sylar's side. She couldn't stop crying. It was the longest car ride of their existence. Sylar helped Claire walk into the therapist's office. When he came back into the lobby, he glared at Matt.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions…" His apology was cut short with a left hook to the jaw. Matt rubbed his jaw and looked at the other man, who was practicing amazing self restraint. "I deserved that."

"You deserve much worse than that!" Sylar was towering over Matt, trying really hard not to cause any more physical damage to his clueless friend. "What the _hell_ were you thinking!"

"Sylar," Dr. Lee Cooper said, "Step into my office." Lee was surprised when Sylar came without any resistance.

Sylar stopped in the doorway and looked at Matt, "Don't you dare even think of eavesdropping on what is going on in there." He pointed to Dr. Keller's door. Matt nodded and turned to leave the office to give them some space. "Stay." Sylar pointed at the other man similar to what an owner would do in training his dog.

Matt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Great, I'm a fucking dog again._ "I'm sorry!"

"Sit down and shut up Parkman because I'm this close," he showed Matt a few centimeters between his finger and thumb, "to letting the old me come out and play."

Matt sat down immediately and in his haste, he almost missed the chair. When the door closed to Dr. Cooper's office, Matt buried his face in his hands. _What the hell have I done?_

* * *

_New York City, NY_

Noah Bennet slammed his fist against the table at another dead end lead. At the rate he was going, he'd died before he even got a clue to where Claire was.

"Want to do something more productive with your time?"

Noah looked up to see his wife sitting across from him. He wondered how long she had been sitting there. "What would that be?"

"Find Danko," Sandra said, "You know, the real villain here?"

"Claire needs to be safe…"

"She is safe," Sandra said, "No one can find her. What we should be focusing our efforts on is Danko. When Claire is ready to come home, she'll come home. When she comes home wouldn't it be better if we have cleared up the Danko problem for her? If not, we have done something to track him down that we can share with Matt and Sylar."

"How can you be okay with it?"

"How could you have been okay with keeping me in the dark when my daughter was kidnapped?"

"That wasn't the question."

"You already know the answer to your question."

"Why are you helping that monster hold her hostage?"

"How can you help Danko find her?"

"What are you talking about!" Noah yelled at her, "I wouldn't do anything of the sort!"

"Sylar's keeping her safe and the more you look for her and not Danko, the more danger you are putting her in."

"I don't follow."

Sandra inhaled to keep her temper in check. "The more areas you cross off where Claire isn't," Sandra explained, "That helps him find her. He wants to destroy you through Claire. You ask why I'm supporting Sylar, because he's keeping her from Danko; not helping Danko find her quicker. When Claire is ready, then Sylar will come after Danko."

"How can you support the monster that killed my brother?" Peter said walking into the kitchen, "The monster who's keeping Claire from her family."

"First of all, we are keeping us from Claire. Danko is monitoring everything we do. It's not safe for Claire to be here unless we some clue as to where Danko is and how to take him down. And honestly, I think Sylar's more fitted to track Danko down. He found Claire in impossible situations; I know he can find Danko." Sandra grabbed Peter's hand and gave it a squeeze before letting it go. "Secondly, look at the bigger picture."

"Please, enlighten me on the bigger picture." Peter responded sarcastically.

"Even you were trying to take down your brother," Sandra told him, "Granted, Sylar's methods were more lethal, but you both were fighting on the same side. Nathan needed to be stopped. He was putting innocent lives at risk including you, your mother, and Claire."

"He didn't have to kill him!" Peter said, "And Angela and Bennet here didn't have to force Matt into making Sylar become Nathan."

"Sylar is responsible for his actions and not the actions of others. Just like we are responsible for our actions and not others," Sandra explained to Peter.

"I still don't like it," Peter said to Noah, "But Sandra's right. We need to focus our energies on finding Danko. When we take him down, Claire will be free from that asshole and hopefully she will be rid of that psychotic-brother murdering bastard as well."

* * *

_Edenton, NC_

There was an awkward silence the whole car ride home from the therapist's office. Matt didn't know who this Dr. Copper was, but Sylar hadn't spoken to him since leaving the office. Sylar looked less tense but Matt felt like he was punishing him with his silence. Claire was a step up from being cationic as she burrowed her body into Sylar's side. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tighter to his side.

When the car stopped, Matt jumped out of the backseat and went around the house to the dock. He sat down on the bench and tired to figure out how they got to this place. Claire looked fine last night and this morning, until his confrontation with Sylar. Taking his gaze from the water to the house, Matt couldn't help but wonder what type of horrors those two had endured the past two months.

* * *

Sylar just let Matt go; he would deal with him later. Today and the unforeseeable future belonged to Claire. After unlocking the door and turning off the alarm, he led Claire to the couch. He helped her sit down and when he settled his body next to hers, she climbed onto is lap and kissed him. "What are you doing?" he asked her as he broke away from the kiss.

"I need this." Her voice was small and timid; like she was afraid he would hurt her in some way.

Sylar didn't know when her tiny hands become so quick that she had taken off her top and hand him half way out of his before he had processed the movement. She had the t-shirt completely off before his hands could stop her. "Claire I don't think it's…" his voice trailed off as he watched her put on his shirt and then looked at him with those eyes he hadn't seen in weeks; those innocent child-like eyes that showed the pain of witnessing their world being shattered right before their very eyes. God he hated to see that look on her face. It reminded him of what she looked like when he first rescued her from Danko. _Mental note to talk to Parkman, because we can't keep going through this._ "Okay." He pulled her against him as he laid them down on the couch. He felt her hands trailing down his stomach to his pants, "I don't think…."

"These are too tight and uncomfortable," she told him as her hands bypassed his pants to hers. Claire wiggled out of the pants and threw them carelessly on the floor.

"I'll get you some shorts," he told her but she stopped him.

"No, stay." She burrowed her body into his and held on tighter to keep him from leaving her. He could feel her fear radiating off of her. She was terrified that if he left her for a few seconds that Danko would somehow take her away from their makeshift home. Sylar wrapped his arms and mumbled words of reassurance to her. She remembered to keep breathing, as promised to Dr. Keller, as she shared with her _husband_ her fears, starting with him leaving her because he would realize she wasn't worth the effort. Her second fear was Danko finding her again and that she would be too crippled with fear to stop him or put up a fight.

Sylar didn't promise to be with her forever because he didn't know if they would have a forever. He didn't know that one day she wouldn't realized that she's frolicking with a monster and leave him behind. He promised her that he would be with her as long as she wanted him by her side. A promise he knew he could keep.

Matt decided it was time to face the music as he got up and walked towards the house. When he reached the steps, he hesitated, Matt wasn't sure if he could do this. After exhaling, he knew it was time to face the wreckage of his actions. He opened the patio door and immediately noticed a bare-chested Sylar's quick movements to cover Claire up with the blanket that was hanging on the back of the couch. The next thing he saw was Claire's shirt and pants thrown carelessly on the floor. "Really Sylar!" he exclaimed, "you really think sex is the…" His sentence was cut off by an invisible hold on his mouth.

"_Get your mind out of the gutter,"_ he communicated to Matt through telepathy, _"Nothing happened. Now leave before you wake her up."_

Matt glared at him since Sylar still had control over his mouth.

"_We'll talk outside,"_ Sylar promised as he released his control over Matt.

"_Okay,"_ Matt responded. He felt some relief when he saw that Sylar was at least wearing some pants. Matt watched as Sylar carefully get out from under Claire and kiss her temple before he tucked her in. Matt headed to the patio and waited for Sylar. He didn't have to wait long before the man in question came out with two beers in hand. He was wearing a black beater now and handed Matt a cold bottle of Miller Lite.

"I thought we could use one," he told Matt before taking a drink.

"Thanks," Matt said before taking his own drink. He followed Sylar's lead and took a seat across from him. After a few minutes of silence he asked, "What happened?"

"It's a bad day," Sylar told him, "She used to have them daily, but now she has them only every once in a while. When it happens, she seeks comfort in wearing my clothes and being as close to me as possible."

"Why you?" Matt asked immediately. "I didn't mean to sound like an ass but…"

"I'm the boogeyman," Sylar finished. "It's okay." Sylar could sense Matt trying to retract his previous statement. "I ask myself that all the time as well but it comes down to the simple fact that when I saved her from Danko; we were physically close for days. She says it's my smell that grounds her. It reminds her that he doesn't have her anymore."

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

"It's okay, you didn't know, "Sylar responded, "I'm not going to hold it against you. I'm a monster. Just ask Bennet."

"You used to be," Matt corrected him, "Now, I don't know what you are." Matt was completely honest. He didn't know what type of person Sylar was, but he wasn't the same man he forced into believing he was Nathan three years ago.

"I'm sorry about this morning," Sylar said changing the subject, "I should have prepared you."

"A warning that you were going to have sex with Claire would have been nice and saved me from some humiliation."

"What?" Sylar said shocked, "Shit! That was this morning? Really?" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "This has been a long shitty ass day."

"Wait," Matt interrupted completely confused, "What were you talking about?"

"Claire's meltdown," Sylar told him, "Why would I prepare you incase Claire and I had sex?"

"So I wouldn't walk in on you two."

"Point taken," Sylar said before taking a drink. "But you are the idiot that mistook giggles for a cry for help."

"Yes well…" he trailed off as he couldn't think of a defense for himself. After a few moments of silence he asked, "Can I ask you how _that_ happened?" Matt cringed inside. Did he really want to know the dirty details? They did have a strange friendship of sorts and that is what friends do right?

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yes," Matt said, "Last night you left staying it's not a possibility, then I'm scared again."

"Claire," Sylar told him, "I took your advice and followed her lead. I gave her so many outs; she never took any of them." Sylar smiled at the memory. "She told me that she loves me." The way he said that last sentence, there was a certain amount of awestruck in his voice, like he couldn't fully believe that Claire Bennet loves him.

"Really?" Matt couldn't believe that he was witnessing Sylar smiling, not smirking, but an honest smile spread across his face. It was like he found a hidden treasure. He must have given Sylar a goofy grin of his own because he glared at him. "I'm sorry, I've just never seen you happy before. Actually I've never seen you smile before either." Matt tried to hide his smile by taking a fake drink of his beer as Sylar continued to glare at him.

"You're fucking hilarious," Sylar mumbled before the restless person inside drew his attention "Claire needs me." He stood up and went inside swiftly.

Matt followed Sylar and saw Claire struggling against an invisible force. He watched as Sylar held onto a sweaty Claire as he rubbed her back and whispered into her ear. Matt felt like an intruder as he witnessed this moment between the two as Claire slowly came back to consciousness and the demons were chased away. This is what Sylar meant when he told Matt he should have prepared him for these moments. After witnessing this, his respect for these two individuals had grown in miles. _How does this not drain him and make him want to run far far away? How can she still have her sanity?_

* * *

_Three Days Later_

Matt was sitting at the table sipping coffee in a new outfit Claire picked out for him when she dragged him out shopping for new clothes. He still remembered the evil grin on Sylar's face as he waved at them and told them to have a good day as he went off to this June person's house. Matt had to admit; Claire had an eye for fashion and picked out clothes for him better than his wife ever could…not that he would tell Janice that. He groaned as he heard it again. Those little fits of giggles that he had unsuccessfully tried to block out for the past ten minutes. He didn't want to know what was going on in that bedroom, but he wished he was deaf so he could sit here blissfully unaware of what was going on in there. Claire was doing better since that day. Unfortunately, he'd walked in on them making out too many times to count. It made him grateful to have a son and not a daughter because if Claire was his daughter, he would have punched Sylar in the face repeatedly by now. His thoughts were interrupted by the patio door opening and Sylar coming inside.

"What?" he asked when he noticed Matt's confused expression.

"If you were out there, then who's in there making Claire giggle?" He pointed his thumb in the direction of the master bedroom.

Sylar paused as he eavesdropped on his girlfriend's conversation. "She's talking to Ava on the phone."

"The psycho who's trying to kill you?" Matt had met Ava a few days previously and from what he can tell, the woman is a walking disaster.

"That would be the one," Sylar said as he poured some coffee and added cream and two sugars. "She'll be pissed at me by the end of the day." He grabbed a spoon and stirred the coffee.

"What did you do?"

"Had her license revoked."

"About fucking time."

"You're preaching to the choir brother."

A newly blonde Claire came into the room, "I'll see you in a few minutes then," she mouthed thanks to Sylar as she took the coffee from him. "Bye June." She stood on her tippy toes and kissed him briefly. "Morning."

He pulled her back into a little longer kiss, "Mmm, now it is," he mumbled into his lips.

"Good morning," Matt said loudly as they broke apart, "Remember me, I live her too."

"Temporarily," Claire reminded him with a Sylar-like grin.

"You're rubbing off on her," he pointed at Sylar who was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Sylar gave her a huge smile and winked at her. "And not in a good way."

"Even better," Sylar said to the other man before looking at Claire, "So what did the fruit loop want?"

"For the last time her name is Ava," Claire told him, "You mean June because I was talking to her."

"No I meant the walking disaster," Sylar said, "You were talking to her earlier." Claire glared at him for eavesdropping on her conversation. Sylar tilted his head towards Matt, "Your giggling was making him uncomfortable. He thought we were necking again." He waggled his eyebrows and laughed when a red-faced Claire slapped his arm.

"Her license was revoked," Claire told him trying to get away from the topic of Matt Parkman walking in on them. She had a suspicion he already knew this piece of information and most likely had a hand in it as well, "And I couldn't help but laugh. She's a horrible driver."

"You and Parkman should start a club," Sylar said, "for individuals who state the obvious _all _the time. You can be Captain Obvious and he can be Lieutenant Duh."

"Charming," she said sarcastically.

"Why must you keep telling me things I already know?" he laughed when she hit his chest. He rested a hand on her hip pulling her closer to him. "What did June want?"

"She's having a bad day and was feeling depressed," Claire informed him, "I didn't want her to be alone so I told her to come over and join us for the barbeque."

"What barbeque? Barbeque makes it sound like an event." Sylar asked, "It's not an event, just the three of us…."

"Four."

"Four people eating what comes off a grill instead of a pan due to the beautiful day we're having."

"I may have implied that we were having a barbeque since your best friend dropped in for a visit."

"Am I suppose to be the best friend in this scenario?" Matt asked playfully as he pointed to himself. He laughed when Sylar rolled his eyes at him.

"Let's get moving Lieutenant Duh," Sylar instructed, "Apparently we're making a big deal about your presence here."

"I gotta say…."

"Gotta is not a word," Sylar corrected him. Claire smiled as Matt scowled at him. It was good to know she wasn't the only one he felt the need to correct. "It's what unintelligent people say because they do not know how to communicate properly. Please try to remember that your IQ is not swirling down a toilet when you open your mouth to speak."

Matt looked at Claire. "Why are you dating him again?"

"He's _really _good in bed." She gave him a wicked grin.

"I knew I was going to regret that one." He mumbled under his breath before turning to Sylar. "I _gotta _say, you're not a very good best friend. I must be pulling all the weight in this relationship here."

"I can only work with what I have," Sylar shouted at his retreating form, "And apparently that is a best friend who speaks like a hillbilly!" Sylar glared at Claire who couldn't contain her laughter, "You owe me."

"Just put it on my tab," she told him with a huge grin. She let out a started breath when Sylar slapped her ass as he passed by her. She retaliated with her own swat before giving him a quick kiss and pushing him towards the door. She went to the refrigerator and grabbed the items needed to make her fruit salad when the doorbell rang. Claire went to the door quickly to greet the older woman with a hug. She was careful not to knock over the dish in her hand.

"Thank you for the invite," June said, holding back the tears, "I really needed the distraction."

"Anytime."

"I made apple pie for desert," June said handing the pie to Claire.

"Thank you," she said with a warm smile, "Sylar's going to be like a kid on Christmas morning when he sees this."

"I was thinking about him when I made it," she told Claire with a warm smile.

"Please come in and I'll make us some tea."

June followed the younger woman into the home and took a seat on the stool by the island. She watched as Claire busied herself with the tea. June struggled with the idea of burdening the Grey's with her presence on this happy occasion. Her thoughts were interpreted with Claire's hand on hers. She looked up and saw caring blue eyes staring back at her. "My apologies," June said quickly, "I shouldn't have come and ruined your party."

"First of all, it's really not a party. It's a meal eaten outdoors with my eccentric husband and his moronic best friend. I really could use someone here to help me even out the sanity quota." Claire squeezed June's hand. "And most importantly, you are the closest thing to family Sylar has which means you're my family too. If something is troubling you, we want to help you." Claire didn't know what she said, but the tears fell from June's eyes.

"You are too sweet child," June told her as she cupped her face on her hands before setting them on the table.

"Now tell me what's wrong."

"It's Gabriel's birthday."

"Sylar's birthday is today?" Claire asked completely surprised and offended that he wouldn't tell her this. "Why wouldn't he tell me—"

"No dear, not our Gabriel, my Gabriel." June wiped the tears from her eyes. "He would have been twenty-eight years old today. It's foolish to be upset about it since I never knew him. But that's what makes it hurt so much more. My grandson could be alive today if we weren't so stubborn. If I wasn't playing the doting wife while my husband disowned our daughter and stood up for her instead."

Claire walked around the island and hugged her until the tea kettle whistled. She busied herself making the tea as her thoughts wandered to the argument she had had with Sylar over this very topic.

"_Why won't you even try to find him?" She asked him again. "That's all I'm asking you to do is to try!"_

"_Claire it's been twenty-two years since he's been seen."_

_Claire stared at him waiting for him to continue. When she realized that was his argument she prompted him to continue by saying, "So?"_

"_They haven't found him which means he's dead."_

"_Why would you jump to him being dead?" Claire asked, "He could be alive."_

"_That bastard didn't want a wife and he didn't want a child. He wanted money. When he didn't get it; he killed his wife and left the body." Sylar shook his head. After all these years, he still doesn't know the name of the man who murdered his friend's daughter and grandson. He guessed some memories are just too painful._

"_That means Gabriel is…"_

"_Dead," Sylar finished her sentence, "The bastard was only in it for the money. If Gabriel was alive, he would have asked for a ransom. He would have bled that grieving family for all they are worth to have their only grandson; their only link to their daughter."_

"_But what if he somehow escaped."_

"_Claire, June hired the best private investigators," Sylar told her, "She had his picture plastered over the media. If Gabriel was alive, someone would have noticed him."_

"_But what if he is alive."_

"_It doesn't matter Claire," Sylar told him, "Twenty-two years have pasted. If Gabriel was still alive he would have a life and a family. He would have no use for…" He trailed off._

"_No use for what? A doting grandmother?"_

"_She loves the idea of him that she created, not him," Sylar inhaled, "If he's alive, he would reject her. So why bother?"_

"_How are you so sure that Gabriel would reject her and break her heart?"_

"_Because she's had a lifetime of con artists pretending to be Gabriel and every single one of them broke her heart."_

"_I'm not talking about a con artist; I'm asking you why you won't look for the real Gabriel."_

"_He's dead."_

"_You don't know that," Claire countered, "You found me, you could find anyone."_

"_Danko was a cocky son of a bitch who left clues. Gabriel's a cold case with zero leads." Sylar ran his hand through his hair. "June finally buried him next to his mother," Sylar told her, "What good would it be to open old wounds and put her through that again?"_

"_You can just look," Claire pleaded, "We don't have to tell her if the search comes up empty. But if we find him and he's alive and wants to know her."_

"_Then I would lose her," he sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands. "She would have her own Gabriel, made out of her own flesh and blood. She'd have no use for me anymore." _

"_Sylar," Claire said softy as she sat down next to him and rubbed his back. "Sylar, she loves you. You're her Gabriel. I don't think you could do anything to make her stop loving you. Even if her grandson was still alive, you would still be her Gabriel. She would still love you and carry you in a special place in her heart."_

"_It doesn't matter Claire," Sylar said, "It's all just a moot point. Gabriel's dead. His father killed him and his body was never found."_

"_But-"_

"_No buts. These are the facts. He's dead. June buried him." Sylar looked at Claire with a silent plea in his eyes. "Just let him rest in peace."_

"Would you like to see a picture of him?"

Claire set the tea in front of her and smiled. "I'd love to." June reached into her pocket and pulled out the old wrinkled photograph. Claire looked at a little boy in a plaid shirt, jet black hair, milk chocolate eyes, and black framed glasses. He had a big goofy grin on his face that made Claire smile. "I have an idea. Let's throw Gabriel a birthday party. I could make a cake and everything."

"Oh _hell _no!" Sylar said coming into the kitchen to get the meat. "There is a reason why I never told you when my birthday is Claire. I hate them and want to forget it's even my birthday."

"We're not talking about you," Claire defended herself.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire. I'm the only Gabriel you two know whose birthday is today," he said as he walked by her and glanced at the photo in Claire's hand. "And I don't appreciate you showing June my childhood pictures. Some would call it an invasion of privacy."

"What?" Claire asked, unsure of what he was going on about.

"How did you find the box?" he continued as he wasn't buying her innocent act. "I hid it well and really high. Like way-out-of-Claire's-reach high."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Claire you can't lie to me when you are holding the evidence in your hand."

It finally clicked in her mind what he was talking about and looked at June before glancing down at Gabriel's picture. "Who do you think this?" She held up the picture.

"I'm not playing this game with you." He looked at her and realized she wasn't going to let up. He snatched the photograph from her and held up to his face. Claire and June could see the similarities between the man and the boy in the picture. "Can you see it now? The eyes, big eyebrows, messy hair, the nose?" He paused. "It's me and according the back I'm five years old." Sylar looked at the picture more closely. "This photograph doesn't look familiar to me." He looked to Claire as he put it back on the counter. "It was in the box right?"

June let out a startled gasp before losing her grip on the cup of tea she had been holding in mid air this entire time.

"June are you okay?" Sylar asked as he rushed to her side to clean up the mess. When she didn't respond the looked up at her and noticed her pale complexion. "June?" He repeated her name again and when she didn't respond he turned to his equally shocked girlfriend. "Claire what the hell is going on?"

Claire picked up the discarded photo and held it up. "Are you certain the boy in the photograph is you?"

"I'm getting _really _sick of this game Claire."

"Please Sylar, this is important. Are you sure?"

"Yes Claire, that is me."

"Are you positive?"

"Am I…" he inhaled to keep his temper and frustration in check.

"Grill is ready, where are those burgers…" Matt trailed of when he noticed the tense atmosphere he just walked into. "What's going on here?"

"Yes, I am one hundred and fifty percent positive that I am the boy in the picture. But you already know this since _you_ found it in a box of photographs from _my_ childhood," Sylar said through gritted teeth. "Now someone tell me what the fuck is going on before I loose what is left of my self control."

"I didn't know you had a box of old photos."

"Bullshit" Sylar responded immediately, "Then where in the hell did this one come from?" He held up the photo that started him down this annoying path.

"It's June's."

"You're not making any sense. Why would June have a photo of me when I was five years old? Much less carry it around with her?" He looked at the stunned woman next to him. "What's wrong with her? She looks like she's seen a ghost."

"Because she has seen a ghost."

"Ahh Sylar," Matt interrupted, "Can you fill me in here because I'm really lost here."

"You and me both," Sylar mumbled before turning back to Claire. "Whatever you're trying to say, just spit it out already."

"This is Gabriel…" She pointed to the picture in Sylar's hands.

"I know, I am Gabriel-"

"June's grandson."

"Excuse me," Sylar said, "Did you just say-"

"The police gave me that photograph over twenty years ago," June spoke softly, her voice was a little hoarse. She was in a daze. This didn't seem real. After all these years, her Gabriel was alive and living next door to her for over the past three years. _Could this really be happening?_ "My Addie had it on her when Samson Gray killed her and my grandson disappeared."

Sylar stared at her in complete shell shocked. Samson Gray had killed his mother after selling him to his uncle. His mind flashed back to the argument he had with Claire. There was no monetary value in keeping him alive. The only thing that saved his life was his uncle willing to buy him. _It's just too much to take in. _He sat down but miscalculated where the stool was and fell on the ground.

"Sylar!" Claire screamed as she rushed to his side with Matt a few paces behind her.

This was all surreal as he stared at Claire. His brain was trying to process it all, to find the logic in how he could be such a bastard to refuse to find June's grandson sooner. How he never noticed this complete stranger shared his unique features until now. _How could I have been so blind? _He had never bothered to look at the photo until he saw it in Claire's hands.

"Hey buddy, say something," Matt said completely worried but trying to hold it together for everyone in the room. With Sylar out of commission he felt it was his job to try and do what Sylar does.

Sylar touched Claire's face; his moments and expression resembled someone who was stoned. "You did it Claire."

"Did what?" She put her hand on his as she saw June come out of her state of shock and kneel next to him. "You found him." He mumbled to her. "You found June's grandson."

"You did," Claire reminded him, "You identified the little boy."

"Like that stupid movie you made watch," he said, "When the girl found her picture on the milk carton."

A teary eyed June slowly raised her shaky hands to his face. "My Gabriel," she whispered, "My Gabriel, you are alive. My baby's baby is alive and well." She wrapped her arms around him as tears of joy flooded from her eyes.

Claire wiped a few tears of her own as she watched a shell shocked Sylar hugging a weeping June—his grandmother, his family, who kept repeating, "My Gabriel's alive."


	17. Heartbreaker

_Author's note_: I used some Italian words and wanted to give the translations at the beginning instead of the end. I also have June and Sylar have communication through Italian as well at one point. The English translation via Google Translate is in italics after it.

Nonna-grandmother

Nipotino-grandson

Nonni-grandparents

Mio-my

Mamma-mother

Thanks for your patience, onward to the story.

* * *

**Chapter 17 Heartbreaker**

Sylar sat there completely numb and unable to move as his brain tried to process everything that was happening. June was clinging to him as if she was afraid if she let go, he would disappear again. Matt looked confused until Claire said something to him. What those words were, Sylar did not know. He could only see her mouth moving but could not hear anything. The only sound his ears could pick up was June mumbling his name over and over again, and her disbelief that her grandson was alive. That _he_ was _her_ grandson. His wretched childhood ran through his mind like a DVD playing on fast forward. The memory of a conversation he had with the elder Dr. Suresh played in real time. The conversation where he confessed to Dr. Suresh that he always wished someone would come and tell him that his parents weren't his parents. That he was special. The old adage _be careful what you wish for_ rang true. When he was a child, he may have wished it but had fully accepted his reality. There wasn't a nice family out there looking for their precious baby boy. His mother was mentally unstable and his father was a coward who left a child to take care of his wife instead of institutionalizing her.

When he did find out the truth, his parents weren't his parents. His life became a whirlwind of destruction. Discovering the truth that the man who gave you life was more sadistic than you—hurt more than he would ever admit to himself much less to anyone else. His mother was dead, killed by the aforementioned bastard. This bombshell of finding his grandmother was his breaking point. Sylar could not believe a woman of her means could not have found him until he looked at the picture she carried around for over two decades. When he found the ability to move, he pushed June away from him as he scrambled to get to his feet. His ice cold gaze set on her as he shook away Claire and Matt's hands on his shoulder. "Where the hell were you!"

"What?" June said startled. Whenever she pictured this reunion with her grandson, she never imagined this reaction. Call her naïve, but she always imagined a joyful reunion or some anger. But she never though her grandson would look at her with eyes that could lower the temperature of the room.

"Where the hell were you!" Sylar repeated, his voice void of any emotion except the anger coursing through his veins.

"I don't understand," June said trembling, "You know that I tried looking for—"

"Bullshit!" He snapped at her.

"Sylar," Matt tried to intervene.

"Stay out of this!" Sylar hissed at him. "I am addressing her!" He pointed at the fragile old woman. "She could have found me if she'd wanted to!"

"Mio nipotino, you know that's not true!" June cried out, "I hired private investigators. No one—"

"I found that asshole. After twenty-two years and not much to go on," Sylar interrupted her, "But I found that bastard dying of cancer. I left him alive for the cancer to slowly kill him. Which leads me to believe—"

"_Do you really think this old woman wanted you?" _Virginia Gray's voice echoed through his head. _"She never loved you like I did. If she did, you would have been with her."_

"Sylar please think about what you're doing!" Claire begged. It hurt to look at him. He looked like his whole world had just crumbled around him. "Let's just go somewhere and talk this through." Claire knew when he processed everything; he would regret everything he was doing. If only she could get him to stop talking—to stop_ reacting_ to the situation.

"So I ask you again, where the hell were you!" Sylar nearly screamed out letting his emotions take over. "Where were you when that asshole sold me to his brother like I was a fucking animal you didn't want anymore!" June let out a shaky breath. "Where the hell were you when that fucking pathetic excuse for a human being left me to care for _the_ most unstable person I have ever met! Why weren't you there to take me away from her psychological, emotional, and physical terrorism!"

"I would have taken you away from that if I'd—"

"_No one wants you." _ The voice continued to taunted him. _"You're going to be alone forever because you killed the only person who could ever love you."_

"Bullshit!" Sylar screamed at the voice in his head before turning his attention back to June, "Where were you on my twelfth birthday when I was clinging to my best friend who was trying to kill herself!"

Claire's breath caught in her throat when she heard that. _No wonder he hates his birthday. Who needs _that _reminder? _Claire reached out to touch him, but he shrugged away her comfort. His anger was fueling his actions.

"Where were you when I was lying in the hospital recovering from the physical damage of trying to save her or better yet, when her mother beat the shit out of me before she threw me down a flight of stairs because she believed I killed her daughter!"

Matt glanced at the older woman who looked like she was ready to fall apart. "Buddy, we should take a walk."

"Where the hell you were when her father," he pointed at Claire, "turned me into a killer then started hunting me down because God forbid I wouldn't be his fucking puppet." His hands made the motions of a puppet master pulling the strings to move the puppet.

Matt had never seen this side of him before, the most guarded man he knew was unleashing his raw emotions for the whole world to see. He had to stop this train wreck from happening. Matt grabbed Sylar and pulled him towards himself, "We're taking a time out Sylar."

"_You're my special boy. No one will ever love you. She doesn't want you, Claire doesn't want you. Matt's just here to make sure you don't kill his boy. No one wants you but me. I will always love my special boy."_

Sylar broke free from Matt's hold and screamed at the figment of Virginia Gray next to Matt. "Leave me the fuck alone you deranged psychotic bitch!"

"Are you okay?" Matt asked. His friend's outburst was directed towards the space beside him.

"Do I look okay to you?" he asked rhetorically before he stalked towards the fragile and petrified woman. He had to get out of here, but couldn't. He was drawn to this train wreck and couldn't leave until he knew why she never wanted him. "Tell me, where the hell where you when her family fucked with my brain to try and control me. Where the hell were you! I know! You were here in the lap of luxury without a care in the world and probably thinking fuck you Gabriel Gray! I don't want your pathetic existence in my life!" He was practically towering over her and his voice was dangerously low as he added, "What is so different about now? Was it the guilt? Or is it because I seem to have my life together now, so it's okay to acknowledge me and let the world know I'm your nipotino. You come into my home, on my fucking birthday no less, toting my picture and except me to what? Fall into your waiting arms and cry like a fucking infant for my nonna!"

Matt pulled Sylar back and then stepped between them. "Enough Sylar!" Matt said in a stern tone, "We are talking a walk so that your brain can catch up to your emotions."

"Oh Nonna," he screamed, "Save me from this horrible man! He might do something awful like sell me to an asshole and his deranged wife!" He paused as if he was thinking about what he had just said. "Oh wait, that already happened!" he remarked sarcastically.

Matt pushed Sylar back and kept pushing him towards the door. "We are taking a walk Sylar!" Matt shoved him back harder, "Now!"

Sylar held up his hands in surrender and turned towards the door with Matt at his heels. In the corner of his eye, he saw the conflict in Claire's eyes. She wanted to go after him, most likely because she didn't believe Matt could handle him in this state. But she couldn't ignore the sobbing woman in front of her and Matt didn't know June at all. Claire gave Sylar a look that told him she'd be talking to him later about this before going to comfort June. No not June, his nonna. His sensitive ears heard June whisper _Mio nipotino, what did they do to you?_ Sylar quickly exited the house. He needed to get out of there. He sat down on the patio chair and buried his face in hands. _This is a fucking nightmare!_

"_Special boys do not use such fowl language; especially with a lady present."_

He snapped his head up to see a pale Virginia Gray standing before him. "Get the fuck away from me!" he screamed at the ghostly figure in front of his face.

"Care to explain what the hell _that_ was?"

Sylar blinked and Virginia disappeared. Matt stood in her place. "Not now Parkman," Sylar warned as his icy cold glare stared him down.

"You need to—"

"I said _not now_!"

"Fine." Matt sat next to Sylar and waited for his to cool down before trying to talk to him again.

"_I love you, you're my special boy. Should I sing you the song I used to sing to you as a boy? How did it go again?"_

Matt winced when he saw Sylar smack himself on the side of his head hard. There was no doubt in his mind that the man before him was running from some pretty vicious demons. Matt hoped that Sylar would let someone in to help him defeat them.

* * *

Claire helped June to the couch and sat down next to her. She pulled the crying woman into a hug. This was a complete mess. She had never, in all the time she had known Sylar, seen him react like that. _How could the news of knowing this wonderful woman was his grandmother turn him into that? Especially when he was so worried about losing her if she ever found her grandson. _"I'm so sorry."

"It's all my fault," June said through her tears, "I should have tried harder."

"Sylar is being an ass—"

"It's not proper for a lady to use such language child."

Claire bit back a smile. June's world was in pieces and she's still giving her lessons on how she thinks a lady should behave. "I'm sorry June, but he's being an ass to you," Claire said, "He's irrationally angry. You didn't deserve any of that."

"I do, I deserve it all and then some," June said pulling back, "I should have tried harder to find him. I should have made more noise with the police departments, FBI, whoever could have found him. I should have offered a bigger reward. Gabriel was able to find that bastard two decades later with little information to go on." The anger was radiating off her. "That tells me I did not do enough to find him. He spent a childhood wishing for his real family to come and take him away from that…that nightmare. I _failed_ him. We were his nonni and we failed him." June brushed away the tears that fell from her eyes as she thought of her late husband who never get to know his grandson.

"You _cannot_ hold yourself to Sylar's standards when it comes to finding people."

"Excuse me?" The insult June felt was clearly written on her face.

"Sylar is special," Claire said, "One of his innate abilities is finding things or people no matter how hard they are hidden. My father is very good at what he does which is finding and tracking people. When I was taken, my own father couldn't find me. Over six weeks had past."

"What does this have to—"

"Sylar found me in twelve hours when the asshole who took me had a six week head-start," Claire told her, "It's one of his abilities. It's who he is. He's like Prince Humperdinck in the Princess Bride, well minus the ruthlessness…most of the time. He can find anyone in any circumstances."

"Even if that is true," June said, "I always imagined that my nipotino was as energetic and carefree as his mamma was growing up. When I was looking for him; I always though he was with a loving family who was willing to pay Samson's price. I never truly believed he was dead. What kept me going each day was holding onto the image that he was loved."

"Virginia loved him in her own sick and twisted way," Claire even didn't believe that would bring comfort since she wanted to punch Virginia numerous times when Sylar told her stories from his childhood. His years with Cassie were truly his only good years from his childhood. "I'm sorry, I don't even believe that."

"Was Virginia _that_ bad to him?"

"From the stories that I heard, she was unhinged," Claire told her, "I do believe she loved Sylar in her own twisted way, but it was the kind of love that always hurts and never feels good. Martin bought him to make her happy. What I don't understand is that since he knew how unstable she was, why he ever thought she could take care of a child. Especially since he couldn't handle her; how on earth did he except a child to fix her?"

A new set of tears flood June's eyes, "I should have tried harder to find him and bring him home."

Claire looked out the window at Sylar, who was clearly lost in his own thoughts and turned back to June. "Well he's here now, so what are you going to do about it? Sit here and cry about it or be the fierily little lady I met over two months ago that could turn him into a blithering idiot."

June smiled as she wiped the tears from her face. "You're right," she confirmed, "He's here now. I can't change the past, but I can try and change our future."

Claire grabbed her hands to keep her next to her. "June, I'm telling you this because I love both of you but I know him better than you do." June nodded her head signaling her to continue. "He's hurting and he's going to be lashing out in an attempt to push you away. He masks the pain very well; Virginia really did a number with his head. Sylar has many insecurities and abandonment is the biggest. Until now, his whole existence on this world consisted of one abandonment after another. He's going to push, and he's going to push hard. You have to stand your ground and fight back against those insecurities. Against Virginia's voice in his head telling him how _special boys_ should behave."

"You know this from experience don't you?"

"That noticeable, huh?" Claire gave June a tight smile. "If it was up to him, we'd still be tip toeing around our feelings. He'd rather push you away and endure the pain of isolation than to risk the potential heartbreak from letting you in. The tragic part is with him, it's never an _if_, it's always _when_." Claire saw empathy in June's eyes. "Even after everything we've been through together, the good and the bad, he's still holding onto the belief that I'm going to wake up and realize I could do better and leave him. But I could never leave him. I love him so much and without him, I don't think I can breathe." She blinked away the tears as the realization that Sylar had become a stable factor in her life; one that she couldn't image living her life without. Her eyes fixed on Matt who seemed to be trying his best to get the stubborn man to talk. She smiled when Sylar's mouth started to move and make hand gestures. It was that moment she knew that Matt Parkman was going to be a permanent fixture in her life as well. "He's not easy to love sometimes," she said still watching the two men talk before turning her focus back to June, "And today is going to be one of those days. But he's worth the fight every time. He's my diamond in the rough."

June patted Claire's knee and smiled at her, "I think it's time to talk with our boy." She smiled at Claire before getting up and walking to the patio. When she reached the door, the gentlemen were gone and she could hear his car starting.

After a few minutes of silence, Sylar looked over at Matt who was patiently waiting for him to say something. "I need to get intoxicated. So fucking inebriated that I'm falling over as I'm trying to walk around and forget about trying to hold a conversation with me, because you will not understand a damn word that is coming from my mouth." _And I really need to drown out her voice._ He stood up and started to walk around the house to his car.

"Isn't that impossible with your healing ability?" Matt wondered as he immediately followed the other man. He wasn't going to argue with him. If Sylar needed to get drunk, then they would be stumbling home later.

"Well there is only one way to find out." Sylar said as closed the door. "Let's see how many times I can die from alcohol poisoning tonight," he said as he turned on the car.

"Just don't die in a way that I have to explain why the dead guy just got up and asked for another drink." Matt said with a smile as he closed his door. "Because I don't even think the town drunk would buy whatever lie I could come up with."

"I'll try, but I make no promises." Sylar said with a wicked grin. They pulled out of the driveway just as Claire opened the front door. He swore he could see her scowling at him in the rearview mirror.

* * *

_New York City, NY_

"What did you want?" Peter asked walking into a room. He stopped when he saw Noah give him a slight gesture with his head to the table. "Well, I'm waiting?"

"Nothing, just updating you," he said as he taped on the paper on the table once with his finger, "Danko is still under the radar. I have no idea how the bastard is able to stay underground for so long."

Peter looked down at the paper. _Room is bugged. Sound, no video. _His eyes followed Noah's direction to his mother's potted plant. _How the hell did that asshole get in here?_ "You're telling me your contacts were completely useless?"

"Yes," Noah said as he shook his head no.

"This is just great!" Peter yelled as he slammed his fist on the table for added effect. In one quick motion he cleared the table, including the plant.

"Careful!" Noah said coming to Peter's aid as he carefully stepped on the bug to destroy it. "Danko's lost his audio, but I wasn't sure if he had any visuals on the penthouse. "That was the only bug I was able to pick up."

"Visuals?" Peter asked as he helped clean up the mess he created.

"Not sure," Noah repeated, "I can't really get a bird's eye view without tipping our hand."

"And since this is the first time we actually know something before Danko-"

"I don't want to give up that bit of information yet." Noah finished his sentence.

"We could have used the bug to our advantage," Peter told the other man as he put the plant back on it place. "Now we have nothing."

"With Sandra and your mother in the house as well, I couldn't risk it," Noah explained, "They aren't trained for this."

"You're the only one with the training for this," Peter corrected him.

"He will either have to risk planting another one or give up the audio," Noah said, "It gives us some leverage."

"How the hell did he get this in to begin with?" Peter asked as he put the last of the fallen papers back on the desk.

"Don't know," Noah said, "But now is the time for you to stomp off pissed."

Peter scowled at Noah as he gave him a hard shove before storming out of the room.

* * *

_Edenton, NC_

Claire was looking out the window for Sylar's car when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "I don't understand any of this."

"Life's messy sometimes," June told her, "and we can't know or understand all of it."

Claire turned to the tired woman behind her. "A few weeks ago I was asking him to look for Gabriel, to see if he was alive. Sylar wouldn't look for him."

"Because he knew he was my nipotino?"

"No," Claire said. Sylar was a lot of things. But his reaction to the news was genuine. "He was afraid to find Gabriel because if he found him, you wouldn't want anything to do with him because you would have your own Gabriel."

"That's ridiculous."

"I told him that," Claire said with a sad smile, "Which is why I don't understand his reaction to all of this. It's not like you knew where he was this whole time. You didn't abandon him, you just found each other."

* * *

"This sucks ass!" Sylar grumbled as he threw the empty bottle of beer onto the table. "I can't even get tipsy because I heal too quickly." He raised his hand to order another when Matt signaled the waitress for the check. "What the hell?"

"You just drank your weight in booze," Matt said, "Operation get drunk is not a possibility."

"This fucking sucks," Sylar grumbled under his breath. "You're giving up too soon."

"We're leaving before the waitress realizes you should have died from alcohol poisoning _hours_ ago."

"Way to rub the salt in the wound," Sylar leaned back and crossed his arms. He threw down enough bills to cover the bill and a generous tip before walking out of the shady bar with Matt behind him.

"I didn't say it to be an ass," Matt said. He looked at a disheveled Sylar. "You have two options."

"Really only two?"

"Yeah," Matt said standing his ground, "Talk to me or Claire."

Sylar looked like he was thinking over the options before he pointed at Matt. "I take the third option."

"There isn't one."

"Well there should be!" Sylar said, "It's not everyday a man's world is turned upside down." He rubbed his face. This day had drained him emotionally.

"I guess option three is dropping you off at your grandmother's house."

"Don't call her that," Sylar said, "She's not my nonna."

"And what the hell is with all the foreign words that have been spewing from your mouth the past four hours?"

"Foreign words?" Sylar repeated with a wicked grin.

"Don't be an ass," Matt said trying not to feel stupid. Call him an ignorant American, but he honestly didn't know what language those words came from.

"_Special boys speak English because we live in America, not Italy."_

"Would you shut up already!" Sylar yelled as he covered his ears. He felt Matt pulling him towards the vehicle. "What are you doing?"

"Taking option one," Matt told him, "You won't talk to me and if you insist that your grandmother is not an option; then I'm giving you back to Claire."

"Giving me back to Claire?" Sylar repeated slowly as the anger grew, "When did I become her commodity that she can just loan out at a moment's whim—"

"That is not what I meant and you know it!" Matt interrupted him. _He's worse than a child sometimes._ "You have to talk about it. You won't talk to your grandmother…"

"Stop calling her that!"

"Sorry, your _nonna_," Matt corrected as Sylar glared at him, "and you won't talk to me. That leaves Claire."

"I say we keep trying to get drunk," Sylar said, "It's too early to give up on it."

"_Special boys should not drink. Alcohol is the devil's drink."_

"I'm done watching you try to kill yourself," Matt said pushing Sylar into the car, "We're going back home."

"Worst best friend ever." Sylar enunciated every word in his sentence.

"Feelings mutual," Matt mumbled as he started the car to head back home. He only hoped Claire wasn't too angry with them. Rolling his eyes, he knew he was kidding himself. Claire was going to kill them both. He was about to shift into gear when a voice stopped him.

"I think I used to speak Italian."

"Come again?" he asked as he turned to Sylar.

Sylar reached over and turned off the engine. "It's a waste of energy," Sylar told him.

"I don't care about the car Sylar," Matt told him, "What do you mean you think you use to speak Italian. That's not something someone just forgets."

"I have flashes of a younger version of me; talking to someone in Italian," Sylar said, "The woman I'm talking to is a blur. At first I thought it was Virginia but as she so elegantly beat into me that in America we speak English, so I only spoke English." Sylar looked at the people passing by. "Can we at least finish this conversation with drinks?"

"Fine," Matt said giving in a little. They made their way into a coffee shop. Matt rolled his eyes when Sylar made his coffee Irish. "You were saying."

"I keep trying to remember that woman. I know now that it wasn't Virginia. She had brown eyes like me. Virginia's were blue."

"Your mother?"

"Could be my mamma," Sylar said, "When I first met June, whenever she got really angry; she started speaking in Italian. I was surprised I was able to understand most of what she was saying and how much she was swearing when she thought people didn't understand what she was saying. Most of the vocabulary I had forgotten. When she figured out I understood most of what she was saying, she would invite me over for tea and insist we speak in Italian only."

"How does June know Italian?"

"Her family emigrated from Italy when she was about five years old," Sylar said, "She is bilingual. When Addie was born, she wanted her daughter to know her heritage, where she came from. I guess her daughter wanted to keep it alive through me."

"So she taught you and probably told you the same stories June told her," Matt finished. He did take note that Sylar was trying to distance himself from them by calling them by their first names.

"It appears so," Sylar said.

"The thing that I don't understand," Matt confessed, "Why are you so angry with her? She wasn't the one who sold you to your uncle."

Sylar glared at Matt's ignorance. "La nonna mi ha ripudiata perché lei non mi voleva. Ora sono suppongo ad accoglierla a braccia aperte. Dopo tutto quello che era successo a me?" _Grandma disowned me because she didn't want me. Now I am suppose to welcome her back with open arms. After everything that had happened to me?_

"Can I get that in English?"

"Claire's waiting," Sylar said as he closed himself off from the world again.

Matt watched his retreating form as he shook his head, "Great, the most he's said this entire day and I don't understand a fucking word of it!"

* * *

Claire was staring out the window waiting for Sylar. June was tired and Claire helped her to guestroom across the hall from Matt to get some rest. The emotional toll from today had exhausted her. June did not want to leave until Sylar came back home. Claire struck a compromise by asking her to stay the night and they could speak to Sylar in the morning. Headlights flashed through the window and with them came renewed energy. She met him at the door and tried to hide the shock when he walked right past her. "Oh no you don't!" She told him as she followed him, "You don't get to disappear for hours and walk by me like nothing happened!" She felt a hand on her forearm.

"Tread carefully," Matt advised.

Claire looked at her friend and ordered him to bed. He tried to resist but Claire held her ground. She swore she heard him call her a _stubborn ass_ as he walked up the stairs. Claire sped to the bedroom and when she walked into the room she was greeted with a sloppy kiss. "What are you doing?" she asked as she felt his lips trail down to the crook of her neck and heard the door close. "We need to talk about this," Claire said as she tried to pull away. She looked up at his face and found the saddest pair of brown eyes looking back at her.

"I just want to forgot," he whispered, "Please Claire. Just for tonight, let me forget about this nightmare."

She opened her mouth to demand that they talk about it now but found her resolve quickly disappear when he found the sensitive spot behind her ear. _Damn hormones are out of whack!_ She said to herself as she felt her body winning the war as her legs turned to jello when his lips found another sensitive spot. "Okay," she practically moaned. Whether it was seconds or hours before she found herself on the bed as their hands quickly removed the remaining clothing barriers until there was nothing left between them, Claire didn't know- nor did she care.

* * *

_Morning_

June glanced at alarm clock that read 5:00am before turning her gaze back to the ceiling. She distantly remembered Claire telling that for the past few months he had been getting up shortly after sunrise. She glanced at the darkened sky and decided she would give him at least another hour of sleep before waking him up to talk.

* * *

Claire rolled over straight into Sylar. She groaned and opened her eyes slightly to see him just laying there staring at the ceiling. "Penny for your thoughts?" she whispered as she propped up herself by her elbow.

He turned towards her and brushed some hair from her face. "I'm not sure if my thoughts are worth that much."

"They're worth more than that," she reminded him, "And I told you that I won't allow that negative thinking around me. No one belittles the people I love, _especially_ the man I'm crazy about."

"Yes dear," he said robotically as a brief smile broke out onto his face before it went away.

"Thinking about June?"

"No."

"Really?" Her tone told him that she didn't believe him.

"I was thinking how much it sucks that our healing ability doesn't allow me to get drunk," Sylar told her, "Because it I could get drunk, I wouldn't have think about June." He turned towards her and rested his head on his hand. "Am I suppose to call her nonna now? Or keep calling her June?"

"I don't know. What's a nonna?"

"Grandmother in Italian," Sylar explained to her, "She's from Lecca. Her family immigrated to America was she was five years old."

"Where's it located?"

"You know how Italy is shaped like a boot," Sylar said, "Lecca is in the heel."

"She was born in Italy?" Claire asked, "June isn't an Italian name."

"Her birth name is Jemme de Matteis," Sylar explained, "When they moved here, her parents - in an attempt to assimilate into the American culture - changed their names to make it more pronounceable and that didn't need to be spelled all the time. When they had first moved here a woman from the local church named June, helped them with the transition. She died from some disease that would be curable now, but not back then. I can't remember what. When her father decided to adopt more American sounding names, June was chosen in honor of their friend."

"That's so sad," Claire said and then she realized what he was doing. She hit him hard.

"What the hell?" He rubbed his arm where she had just assaulted him.

"Good try, it almost worked," Claire told him and hit him again when he realized he was caught. "We can talk later about _your_ family history. Now you are going to tell me what the hell is going on with you!"

"I'm not drunk enough—"

"You can't get drunk, now start talking or remember last night fondly because we are never having sex again until you start talking!"

He fell onto his back and groaned. "Christ we're not ever married and you're already using sex as an extortion weapon!"

"Not just sex," Claire told him, "_Really_ good sex."

Sylar groaned again, "I know, that's what makes it a way-below-the-belt move on your part sweetheart. If it was bad, then I wouldn't care." He looked at her as she scowled at him. "Think about what I just said, there was a compliment in there."

She ran his words through her head again, "You're right about that. Now talk to me. Help me understand so I can help you."

"She didn't want me."

"That's not even possible."

"It's true," Sylar whispered. "All evidence points to it."

"She spent two decades looking for you," Claire countered, "Where does that fit into…"

"Her guilty conscience eating away at her," Sylar said in a harsh whisper. He didn't want to wake up his house guests. "She disowned me Claire because she didn't want me."

"She didn't know about you!"

"When they disowned my mother, they disowned me!"

"June didn't know about you until after everything happened," Claire said, "Your grandparents hired private investigators to find your mother. But they were too late, Samson had already killed her and…and…"

"Sold me," Sylar said, trying to withhold his angry. Claire wasn't the one he was furious with, "You can say it. Sold me like a used toy at a garage sale."

Claire exhaled a deep breath and placed her hand on his cheek. She smiled when he leaned into her touch. "Samson never knew the precious person he gave up when he let you go."

"Claire—" He started to pull away.

"I mean it," she said over him as she reached out to stop him from pulling away. "You will never know how much you mean to me Gabriel Gray." Claire leaned over and gently kissed him.

He rested his forehead on hers, "I don't deserve you," he whispered to her, "But I'm glad that you think I do. It means I get to love you, kiss you, and make you mine."

"I will always belong to you," she whispered back as she gave him another kiss. She pulled away to look at his face. She rubbed the back of his neck with her hand and smiled. "She loves you Sylar. You're her Gabriel. She will always love you. But you are right about one thing."

"And what is that?"

"If you don't pull your head out of your ass you will lose her to her grandson."

"How is that even possible?" Sylar inquired, "I am the grandson in the scenario."

"In case you haven't noticed, she's not getting any younger," Claire said, "And I've listened to all of her stories about how her family disowned her when she married Andrew instead of Antonio." Sylar tilted his head to the side trying to understand it. "Antonio, the man her parents arranged for her to marry but she fell in love with your grandfather instead?" Sylar still gave her a blank expression. "Her family disowned her for disgracing the family when she married a blonde hair blue eye Dutchman instead. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"She never told me this," Sylar said, "Just how close did you two get over these past eight weeks?" Claire was about to respond when he cut her off. "And that shows you that June doesn't buckle to societal pressures. She could have done something to stop it. But she agreed to disown her own daughter. She had to know how devastating that would be to my mother since she went through it herself!"

"Her only family was her husband and daughter," Claire said as Sylar fell back onto the bed, "Fear makes you do stupid things. When she realized it, she spent the next five years arguing with your grandfather. It nearly destroyed their marriage."

"I hate stupid people," he muttered as he threw an arm over his face.

"Then stop being one," Claire challenged as she poked him in the chest. His arm slid from his face and he glare at her as she poked him again. "She's not going to live forever Sylar. Yes, she made a mistake but honey, you've made thousands. And I forgave each one."

He opened his mouth to retort but closed it. There was no argument he could give to justify any of his actions. He had done far worse than June van der Wood could ever do and Claire had forgiven. Hell, she _keeps_ forgiving him. His mind drifted to Matt and how he blackmailed him to help his crusade in finding Claire. Matt is still with them in the battle to take down Danko instead of being with his family. _Shit, I think Matt's right. We are friends. When did that happen?_ "You are right."

"I know I am," Claire told him, "The faster you realize I'm almost always right, the smoother life will be for you."

"No need to get cheeky sweetheart." A frantic knock on the door and constant ringing of the door bell drew their attention. "Are you excepting that fruit loop at 5:30 in the morning?"

"Her name is Ava," Claire told him for the hundredth time, "And no."

Sylar quickly threw on some pants and grabbed a shirt as he went to the door with Claire a few feet behind him. He met Matt at the stairs, who stopped Claire from following Sylar to the door. He glanced at the monitor on his way by to see Jake Taylor holding a small sleeping boy. Sylar motioned to Matt to hide the gun he was carrying before opening the door. "Jake?" Sylar asked as the man and child came into the house. "What's going on?"

"Claire," Jake went over to her ignoring Sylar, "Have you heard from or seen Ava?"

"The last time I saw her she was going to her eye doctor appointment," Claire said, "What's wrong?"

"She hasn't come home last night," Jake said, "I fell asleep waiting for her and woke up to Justin crying." He gestured to the sleeping three year old in his arms.

"When did you get a kid?"

"He's our nephew," Jake said, "We're babysitting while Ava's sister Beth is on her second honeymoon."

"Did you call the police?" June asked from the top of the stairs.

"I tried," Jake answered, "I was told she hasn't been missing long enough."

"Leave Justin with the ladies," Sylar said as he slipped on his shoes, "Matt and I will help you look for her."

"Thanks," Jake said as he handed the small boy to Claire before heading to the door. "She hasn't been answering her phone. I called the company to activate the GPS but it must be off."

"We'll find her," Sylar assured the stressed man, "Tell me everything that has happened."

Claire and June watched the men leave and looked at each other. "Suddenly my Gabriel problems seem like a walk in the park," June commented before turning to Claire, "Let's make a list of her friends and family and start calling."

"Okay," Claire said, "I'm just going to put him down and I'll be right back." Claire quickly went to her bedroom and laid him in the middle of the bed. _Where are you Ava?_

* * *

_Three hours later_

"We haven't heard anything yet," Claire informed Sylar on the phone, "June and I contacted everyone. No one's seen her."

"We've got nothing either," Sylar told her, "Jake has moved past from exceedingly worried to doomsday scenarios. Last one involved human trafficking."

"Oh my god," Claire said startled.

"It's not true Claire, he's just delirious," Sylar tried to comfort her, "Besides, if it were true, this is Ava we are talking about. The kidnappers would give her back with a note apologizing for taking such a wacko in the first place."

"It's not that, you jerk," Claire said in a harsh tone for his comment about her friend, "Someone's here." She squinted her eyes to try and see the figure on the dock.

"Who is it?"

"I can't see," Claire said, "they are crouched behind the bench on the dock. I noticed a head looking at the house and then hid when they saw me."

"I'll be right there," Sylar told her, "Do not do anything stupid."

The phone disconnected as Claire stepped outside to get a closer look. Whoever it was, looked harmless. She took another step further and nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice behind her.

"What part of _don't do anything stupid _did you have difficulty understanding?"

Claire whirled around with her hand over her heart. "Jesus!" she whispered harshly at her boyfriend, "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"If you were in the house like I asked, this wouldn't have happened," he turned her around and pushed her towards the house. "Now go check on the kid."

"You can't just order me around—"

"I just did," he cut her off, "now haul ass and I'll go see our _visitor_." Sylar didn't wait for her response as he walked towards the water. He had just reached the dock when he heard the patio door open and close. Silently he walked towards the crouched figure. When he figured out who it was he let out a loud groan that drew the attention of the young woman before him. "Do you have any idea how many people are looking for you!"

Ava wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled her jacket closer. "Go away please," she whispered.

Sylar took off his jacket and draped it over her, "How long have you been out here?"

"Since my eye appointment."

"Christ!" he mumbled as he recalled the chilly night they had, "Are you feeling suicidal?"

"Please go away," she said through her tears, "I can't deal with you right now."

"_Deal_ with me?" He repeated, "I've been looking for you since your husband knocked on my door at 5:30 this morning."

"Sorry, I thought I called him," she wiped away some tears and pulled his jacket closer.

"So is this pity party over yet?" he asked as she glared at, "Ready to talk about it?"

"Not with you," Ava said.

"Fair enough," Sylar said pulling out his mobile phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Jake's name and hit send. "Hey," he said, "I found her. She's been at my house the whole time."

"_Where?"_

"The dock."

"_I'm on my way."_

"Why did you call him?" she stared at him wide eye.

"He's your husband. He's worried about you." Sylar said, "Do you really need me to go on?"

"You must really be loving this."

"Tootie Fruity, in order for me to be _loving this_ I would need to know what is causing you this anguish. Otherwise there is just no fun in it."

Ava hit him in the bicep. "I don't know what Claire sees in you."

"Apparently I'm really good at sex."

"Gross." She made a disgusted face.

"And pot," he pointed at her before pointing to himself, "meet kettle."

"What's _that _suppose to mean?"

"You may have forgotten your attempts on my life, but I haven't," Sylar told her. "And it's about fucking time you lost your license—" He trailed off when tears flooded from her eyes. "What?"

"I didn't see you!"

"Obviously. That's why texting—"

"No, I really couldn't see you!" she yelled as the door to the Grey's house opened with Jake coming out with Claire shortly behind him. "The doctor….the doctor told me that I am in the early stages of Retinitis Pigmentosa. You were in my blind spot of my peripheral vision and I honestly couldn't see you until I heard you. It was like you came out of no where."

"I'm so sorry," Sylar told her honestly.

"My vision will continue to deteriorate until I'm blind," Ava cried as Sylar wrapped his arms around her. "We were trying to have children. What if I lose my vision and miss out so much of their life."

"You're still be there."

"It won't be the same," Ava cried out, "I won't be able to see anything!" She hugged Sylar tighter. "Can you please be my friend? I could use a friend like you."

"I'm sure you'll feel different about that statement tomorrow," he joked to her, "You hate me for a reason…probably several."

"I don't hate you," Ava disagreed, "I hate your protectiveness. But anyone who can put a smile on Claire's face after she had a complete meltdown at the store when she found out she went up an entire clothing size since leaving New York is a good friend to have in situations like these."

Sylar looked at her confused, "What do you mean—"

"Ava!" Jake said as he ran over them and quickly pulled her into his arms, "Thank God you're okay!"

"I'm so sorry for worrying you," she practically wailed as he launched into his arms.

Sylar quickly got onto his feet and pulled Claire away. "They need a moment." He grabbed her hand and walked her back to the house. They stayed silent until they reached the sanctuary of the home.

"What's going on?"

"Ava was told yesterday that she has Retinitis Pigmentosa," Sylar explained as he eyes landed briefly on June before looking at Claire. "It's a degenerative eye disorder. She's slowly losing her sight."

"Oh my God!" Claire said as she held onto Sylar. Her friend was losing her vision. Claire couldn't imagine what Ava was feeling. Her life was about to change as her vision continued to vanish before her eyes. "We are going to support her." Claire instructed Syalr. "_Whatever_ she needs."

"We will," Sylar assured her. His mind couldn't stop going over what Ava said about Claire's meltdown. He knew that Claire had put on some weight but he thought it was to get her back to her size prior to Danko's interference in their lives. Now it turns out to be something more. What was bothering him the most was the five heartbeats he could hear and he could only count four people.

"It will be alright child," June said as she hugged Claire, "Nonna will take care of it."

Sylar brushed of June's remark as something he'd assume any grandmother would say to try and comfort you. _Unless she was Angela Petrelli; she would contact the devil himself to make a deal if need be._ He moved quickly to Matt. "We need to talk," he whispered. The other man nodded and followed him away from the ladies.

"What's up?"

"Where you here the whole time?"

"Since I got here with Jake about five minutes ago," Matt said, "I was with while you, Claire, and Jake were out there."

"No one else was in this house besides the four of us." Sylar repeated. "You didn't hear any sounds of unusual sounds."

"Yes and no," Matt said before lowering his voice, "Tell me what you're getting….do you think someone's in here?"

"I count five heartbeats," Sylar told him, "The unaccounted one is beating really fast."

"I'll do a sweep," Matt told him, "You're needed in there."

Sylar nodded as he went back to Claire. He saw his neighbors coming towards the house. He glanced back at Matt who was already looking for the missing person. It was moments like these that he was grateful to have Matt around. It kept him from being pulled in numerous directions. Sylar walked back into the living room to hear the trio promising June that they can keep a secret. Ava was next to June on the couch. Then the strangest thing happened. June put her hands on Ava's eyes. After a few seconds, June's hands started to glow. By the time Sylar reached her, June's hands returned to normal and Ava's mouth was opening and closing rapidly, like a fish out of water, as she tried to form words. "What the hell happened?"

"She healed me," Ava said astonished.

Sylar stopped in his tracks. "Come again?"

"I can see you," Ava said before turning head to him, "Before you were in my blind spot but when June removed her hands…I could see you."

"How is that even possible?" Jake asked. He didn't want to sound like he wasn't grateful that his wife's vision was restored, but it scientifically impossible.

"That's what I'd like to know," Sylar said as he went to the elderly woman and looked her over. He could see the panic in her eyes as she looked around trying to adjust; June had taken Ava's infliction.

"I have an ability," June said, "I can take on someone's injury and heal them."

"So now you're going to be blind!" Sylar said.

"Yes, but—"

"Cosa diavolo stavi pensando! Ora si sta per essere cieco!" Sylar yelled. _What the hell where you thinking! Now you're going to be blind!_

"Guarda i tuoi giovane tono. Io sono la nonna e tu sei il bambino. Non si arriva a trattarmi con tale mancanza di rispetto!" June fired back. _Watch your tone young man. I am the grandmother and you are the child. You do not get to treat me with such disrespect!_

Sylar was reeling with anger. For a woman who claimed to care about him so much, she would just do something so careless and not think of the consequences. "Dovrei essere il tuo nipote. Lei non ha fatto nulla per me in oltre venti anni. Nonostante il fatto che mia moglie ha ascoltare le vostre storie piangere sulla tua preziosa Gabriel. Tu sai che questo lavoro dado per quanti anni e ti cieco per lei!" _I'm supposed to be your grandson. You did nothing for me in over twenty years. Despite the fact my wife has listened to your sob stories about your precious Gabriel. You know this nut job for how many years and you blind yourself for her! _

"Ava non è solo uno sconosciuto. Lei è amica di tua moglie." _Ava is not just some stranger. She is your wife's friend. _June could see his anguish, but wished he could see that she did it for him, for his wife.

"I do not care if she is the fucking Pope," Sylar ranted, "You had no right..."

"Watch your tone young man," June interupted, "Like it or not, I am your grandmother."

Sylar threw up his hands in frustration as his eyes gazed over three confused faces. "Quindi dovrei essere grato che amica di mia moglie può vivere una vita lunga e felice con la visione, quando tiene l'pronipote nelle vostre mani come vi dico quello che il bambino assomiglia, perché non si può vedere. Dovrei essere ancora grato? Avete anche pensare di me prima che hai fatto qualcosa di così stupido momentually!" _So I'm supposed to be grateful that my wife's friend can live a long happy life with vision and when you hold your great grandchild in your hands as I tell you what the baby looks like because you can't see. Should I still be grateful then? Did you even think of me before you did something so momentously stupid!_

"La sua temporanea."

"What do you mean it's temporary?" Sylar asked.

"I have this ability that I cannot explain," June told her grandson, "I am able to take on someone's infliction and that person is healed."

"You have my eye disease." Ava asked.

"Yes," June said, "but my body will heal from the foreign infliction. The greater the infliction, the longer it takes to heal" Her tired diseased eyes landed on a confused Claire who had no idea her husband's concern that she wouldn't be able to see any children they may have. "Così, quando quel giorno arriverà il mio caro ragazzo e sto benedetto con una pronipote, sarò in grado di vedere che il figlio amato." _So when that day comes my dear boy and I'm blessed with a great grandchild, I will be able to see that beloved child._

Sylar turned away from June. This was just too much to process. He looked at Ava and Jake. He didn't want them to know his question or the answer. "Non ti corpo a guarire tutte le ferite o semplicemente quando si prende lesioni qualcuno?" Does _you body heal all injuries or just when you take someone injuries?_

"Dolce bambino. La vostra preoccupazione scalda il cuore." June placed her wrinkled hand on his face. _Sweet child. Your concern warms my heart._ "Il mio corpo può guarire qualcun altro infortunio. Le eventuali lesioni che ho deve guarire come esigenze di Madre Natura. Con il tempo o con la morte." _My body can only heal someone else's injury. Any injury that I have must heal like Mother Nature demands. With time or with death._ June stared at her grandson until the benefactor of her kindness broke the silence.

"I will never tell anyone what you did for me," Ava said, "and I won't ever come to you asking you to do what you just did."

"Be happy child," June told her as she looked at her. "Life is too precious and God would not have given me this ability if it wasn't meant to be used in situations like these." June hugged the young woman.

Sylar heard Matt come over and gestured him to come over with his head. Sylar quickly made his way over the other man. "Well?"

"Nothing," Matt said to a disappointed Sylar, "I checked the area, reviewed the security feed from the loft apartment. The only people here are us."

Sylar inhaled as he counted the heartbeats in his head. _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. _"Seven," he said opening his eyes. "There is someone in the room that we cannot see."

"Do you think Danko is working with someone who can be invisible?" Matt asked. "And if so, how the hell did he find us?"

"All I know is that the extra heartbeat is near Claire and Ava," Sylar told him as his eyes landed on the two women huddled closely together, "and its beating rapidly. At least twice as fast as our heartbeat."

"She's pregnant." Matt blurted out.

"Come again?" Sylar said slowly as he focused on Matt.

"When Janice was pregnant with Mattie and we went to the first ultrasound where we could hear the heartbeat. It was beating so fast I thought something was wrong." Matt shared one of the greatest moments in his life with Sylar. "The doctor assured me that it was normal."

"Ava said that her and Jake were trying to get pregnant," Sylar told Matt, "I guess they can stop trying—"

"You're kidding me right?" Matt looked as Sylar's blank expression. "You counted an extra heartbeat when it was just the four of us in the room. Remember. You counted five heartbeats."

"Wait," he said slowly has the quickly processed the information, "Are you saying that Claire's pregnant?"

"Yes _Dad_, that's exactly what I'm saying," Matt said humorously. "That is why it's called protection. It's used to lower your chances of pregnancy—especially if you're going at it like rabbits."

"Are you really trying to have the sex talk with me?" Sylar said harshly.

"I know, it's too late now," Matt said, "I should have pulled you aside the first night I was here but I was too drugged up to care. I'm sorry about that. So here it is. When a man loves a woman…"

"Would you just shut up!" Sylar ordered. He looked at the room and saw four pairs of eyes on him. "Matt and I are going to check on that thing that's somewhere else." He left the room with a laughing Matt behind him.

"That thing? That's somewhere else?" Matt repeated through his laughter, "You couldn't even think of an excuse!" He nearly walked into the door that Sylar slammed behind him. "Really mature buddy!" he said as he opened the door. He found Sylar sitting on the steps to the living space above the garage. "I'm sorry for being insensitive but come on Sylar, you two have been bumping uglies a lot lately. This never crossed your mind." Matt sobered up when Sylar looked at him.

"When Janice was pregnant," Sylar asked, "how long until she started to show."

"Somewhere between two to three months I think," Matt said, "I don't know. I just know when that day came her clothes didn't fit and she cried all day whenever she thought about it." He focused his attention at the man before him. "Why do you ask?"

"Because if Claire…"

"_Is._ Not if."

"She can't fit into the clothes she wore in New York. And this morning I felt it. There's a slight bump that I don't remember her having before. With her diet and exercise there is no way that she is gaining weight. She has an extra heart beat and there's a bump. She's pregnant and…"

Matt's eye widen at the possibility. _No, God could not be that cruel to her._ "Are you trying to say, what I think—"

"I'm not the father so logic tells me that one of her rapists fathered that baby." Sylar was never as angry as he was at that moment of time. It wasn't enough that she was taken, beaten, abused, and raped. This had to happen to her as well. It was like every time she was making progress, life kicked her down again.

Matt felt his legs give out as he stumbled onto the ground. "Oh shit."

Sylar could feel himself holding back the tears as he asked the one question that didn't have a right answer. "How do I tell Claire?"


	18. The Big Apple

**Chapter 18 The Big Apple **

_New York City, NY_

Danko stood there completely baffled as he stared out of the window. _My eyes have to be playing tricks on me. _He looked into the telescope to confirm that it was real and not a figment of his imagination. Sure enough, there stood Claire Bennet, as clear as day; standing on her grandmother's balcony with a wicked smirk on her face as she held a sign: _Come_ _and get me you bastard. I dare you!_ A few seconds later, an irate Sylar pulled her back into the penthouse. He watched as Sylar lectured her. He grabbed Claire by her upper arm and was about to pull her away from the window but they both stopped to stare at something he could not see. "What is this new development?"

* * *

_Two days earlier_—_Edenton, NC_

The sound of the door slamming startled the four people in the living room. As Sylar came into view the door opened again and closed with just as much force as before.

"We need to talk about what you're going to do!" Matt called after him as he briskly walked behind Sylar, who did not stop or acknowledge his statement. "Sylar, what you're planning—."

"Shut up Parkman," Sylar ordered as he turned around and stared him down.

"You might not come back from this!" Matt finished as he ignored Sylar's threatening tone. "You're not alone anymore! You have everything to lose now." When Sylar didn't appear to back down, Matt added, "Think about what this could do to Claire!" Matt was prepared for the sucker punch but it didn't make it any less painful.

"All I think about is Claire," Sylar hissed, "All of this is for Claire." He gestured around him with his arms.

"Your plan will lead you back down the dark path your former self was on. You might not come back from it!" Matt exclaimed.

"I. Don't. Care." Sylar said slowly as he towered over Matt. "When it's done, she will be safe. That is all that _ever_ mattered."

"This isn't…Sylar; there are people here that can help. This isn't just _your_ fight." Matt could feel the desperation consume him. He wanted his friend to hear his words. He wanted Sylar to widen his tunnel vision when it came to Claire and making sure Danko got his just desserts. Sylar had started to consider the possibility of accepting Matt's help with more than just watching Claire until he heard that tiny heartbeat. Matt was sure of two things. The first was that Danko will be found. The second was that his death would be _the_ most painful death in the history of the world.

"If you don't want to be a part of this then runaway back to your family," Sylar told him, "But whatever you decide to do, you're taking her with you." He pointed at Claire.

"You're not listening. I _want _to help."

"You will be helping by taking Claire with you or staying here with her," Sylar wouldn't budge. He was going after Danko and Claire would be thousands of miles away when he did. His stare-down with Matt only broke when he felt her small hand pulling on his forearm to get his attention. He looked down at her and could see the fury radiate from her tiny form.

"Mind sharing this decision _you_ made concerning _my_ life without me?"

"Not in mixed company," he titled his head to the three bystanders sitting awkwardly in the living room.

"Well, look at the time," Ava said looking at her naked wrist as if she wore a watch. "We need to get Justin home for dinner." Ava swiftly went past them to retrieve her sleeping nephew from the bedroom and joined Jake by the door. "Have a good night!" she yelled over her shoulder as Jake whispered to her that it was only ten in the morning as he closed the door.

Sylar looked over at June who hadn't moved since he had come into the house. "Do you mind?" he asked her snidely, "This is a family thing."

"I am your family," June simply stated as she folded her hands in her lap.

Sylar let out a short laugh at the ridiculousness of her statement... "Non siamo in famiglia," _We are not family_ he told her, "You disowned me when you disowned my mother..."

"I am your grandmother," she said, failing to keep the pain caused by his careless statement from her voice. "Non puoi desiderare di distanza." _You cannot wish me away._

"Perché no? Hai fatto." _Why not? You did._ "I do not have a grandmother," he informed the elderly woman. "My pathetic excuse for a father is about to die from cancer. That bastard killed my mother. My aunt is dead and my uncle is a spineless coward who wants nothing to do with me. That is my messed up family. And it does not include you."

"Gabriel—."

"Get out," he told her as he walked away to his bedroom.

Claire could hear June's sobs as she watched Sylar walk away from the only family he had left—again. "Matt," she said as she never took her eyes of Sylar's retreating form, "Makes sure she gets home alright. I'll deal with him." She didn't wait for his response, she just went after Sylar. She couldn't understand his erratic behavior. When she reached the door she saw him about to open the patio door. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"After Danko," he told her, "Matt's here to protect you. Now it's time for me to make sure you never have to look over your shoulder again. You can live your life."

"What's the plan?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, I have it all under control," he stated dismissively, as he hoped she would just let it go. One look from her and he knew he would be fighting a battle he had already lost.

"It's about Danko, so it concerns me," she told him as she moved closer to him, "And even if it wasn't, I love you, so it concerns me—especially when Matt is terrified that you'll lose yourself in this mission."

"I have to do this for your safety," he whispered to her. He could hear the pleading in his tone and shook his head. Only Claire Bennet could make him beg for something. Anyone else, he'd just take it without a second thought. "Danko will know what it truly means to suffer and when I'm done with him. I'm going after your rapists. They must suffer for what they did. I don't care if they thought it was all make-believe. They must suffer the consequences."

Claire exhaled before she took the last two steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Not at the cost of you," she whispered as she looked at him. Her eyes begged him to reconsider his course of action. "It doesn't have to be at that cost."

"Claire—."

"Matt's right," Claire interrupted him, "You are not alone. Let him help you. My dad and Peter can help." She could feel the tears she was trying to keep at bay. "I need you to be okay when this is all over. Let Matt help with more than just babysitting duties." She could see the internal struggle on his face. Claire inhaled and exhaled the words that were Sylar's own personal kryptonite when it came to all things Claire. "Please, do this for me."

Sylar felt himself caving to her request as he nodded yet. _For me_—those two words will always hold more power over him than he would be willing to admit. His reward came in the form of a huge smile on her face. As she stood on her tippy toes, he leaned down to give her a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Now, let's discuss your bizarre behavior towards your grandmother." She couldn't keep the huge grin from her face when she heard him groan and pull away from her.

* * *

_June's residence_

Matt helped June onto the sofa in her living room. "Can I get you anything?"

"Can you tell me what he told you when you were gone for hours yesterday?"

Matt hesitated; the most Sylar told him was in a language he didn't know. Even if he knew what Sylar had said, he wasn't sure he'd share Sylar's secrets.

"Don't answer that," June told him," I shouldn't have asked you to betray his confidence." The tears sprang from her eyes. "I just don't know what to do to get him to speak to me."

Matt didn't know what to say or do to make her feel better because he didn't know how to answer that question either. From his experience, Sylar wouldn't budge until he was ready. Then again, Claire Bennet seemed to have this unseen power to make him bend to her will. Maybe she'd have better luck with his stubbornness. A stubbornness that Matt could understand, Sylar seemed to believe he had been abandoned by her and appeared to be in no hurry to forgive her.

* * *

_New York City, NY_

Peter and Noah were standing in front of a map of New York City. "This is where he disappeared," Peter said as he put a pin in the location. "He was following me for a few blocks before he caught on that I knew he was there."

"Where you able to get the traffic camera footage?"

"Yeah," Peter said, "it was a pain in the ass too. I don't know how Nat—." He stopped; it wasn't his brother that was able to talk his way into the footage. It was Sylar using his ability. _The bastard is a monster, but he has an uncanny ability to get the impossible things with such finesse and ease. _He didn't want to waste another thought on the serial killer. Peter turned his attention back to the map in front of him. "I was able to track him to this building ant then he disappeared." He put another pin on the map. "I swept the building and checked tapes. He didn't come out, but four vehicles left the building shortly after."

"Was he in any of them?"

"He wasn't in any of the cars," Peter told him, "but he could have been in the trunk. Or a blind spot in the security feed."

"I'll give the license plates to my contacts. There were able to track down his movements to the veterinary clinics for medicine. There haven't been anymore break-ins. He must be healed now."

"Or well enough for over-the-counter."

"In which case, there are too many convenience stores in this area for us to cover all that ground," Noah commented. "But we are closing in on him." Noah pointed to the one mile radius around the penthouse where he has been spotted. "He's close."

"One mile in this city might as well be twenty." Peter tried not to be discouraged, but even with all the tracking and cashing in on all of Noah's favors had only got them this far.

"But at least it's just one mile," Sandra said a few feet behind the men, "It could be the whole city."

"Yeah," Peter said feeling a renewed sense of hope as he looked over the circle he had drawn. "Where the hell are you?" Peter's mind drifted back to his niece and wherever she was with that monster. Did he have a map like this? Did it have a smaller circle than a mile or more? Or would the boogeyman that had an uncanny ability to find anyone anywhere already have his hands on the bastard that took his niece from them all those weeks ago. "Where the hell are you?" he whispered again, but this time in reference to his niece, her monster, and the ex police officer. "Wherever you are, I hope you're safe." Peter shook his head when the voice in his head told him Claire was safe with Sylar. He let out a breath as he looked up at the ceiling. "God help me, I think I just drank the Sylar kol-aid Sandra drank if I believe she's safe because of him—no – with him."

* * *

_Edenton, NC_

"That is not up for discussion."

"But—."

"I said no Claire," Sylar said sternly, "You can give me all the wounded puppy eyes you want. I will not budge. June van der Wood is not up for discussion at this moment in time."

"Fine," she huffed out as she crossed her arms. "Then tell me what is going on with you. You're not acting like yourself." Sylar glared at her before he turned from her. She shot out her hand to keep him from walking away from her. "I know you. You don't react so illogically and emotionally. You have a plan Sylar. One were you make it out alive and intact."

"Like a cockroach," he mumbled, echoing Danko's words from Coyote Sands.

"That is it!" she exclaimed as she threw up her hands in frustration, "You are _going _to tell me what the hell has gotten you so wound up!" She crossed her arms and waited for him to answer her. When he mirrored her position she let out a big breath. Sylar wasn't going to make this easy. "I know that you've always wanted to kill Danko. But why those men who didn't know they were raping me?" She said him look at her with questioning eyes. "Not that I forgive their ignorance, it's just not something that had you so insistent on tracking them down."

He sat down slowly as he thought about how to have the conversation he wished he could avoid. "Come sit down," he told her as he patted the empty space next to him. When he saw her hesitation he reached out and grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the bed next to him. He laced his fingers with hers as he turned towards her. "What I'm about to tell you is going to hurt to say as much as it will hurt to hear. You have no idea how much I wish I could have to been the one…that this had to happen the way it did. But you need to know that I love you before I say it, as I'm saying it, and long after the words have been said."

"Okay, you have officially scared me," she whispered to him.

"I know and I'm sorry," Sylar told her honestly as he brushed a stray hair away from her forehead. "I'm sorry that even after two months what that bastard did to you…" he inhaled and exhaled, "…that he still found a new way to hurt you—something that he didn't anticipate but just happened naturally."

"I don't understand what you're trying to tell me," Claire said, "You told me that he can't hurt me anymore that I'm safe with you. What could he possible do to me now…"

"You're pregnant," he all but blurted out.

Claire wanted to call him an ass for what she could only assume to be a cruel joke but the painful expression on his face told her otherwise. Her mind flashed to the unexplainable weight gain, the weird cravings, the mood swings, and her increased sensitivity to touch that made her want to…well as Matt would say it _go at it like rabbits_. "How could you possibly know this before me?"

"Right here in this moment of time, I can hear three distinctive heartbeats," it could be heard in his tone how much it pained him to say these words, "and two are coming from you." He placed his hand over her heart, "Here," and moved towards her stomach, "and here. This was is beating really fast like it should."

Claire looked at him with a look of disbelief wrapped up in denial. The only thing she was grateful for was that she was already sitting on the bed as she was sure her legs would have given out. Her brain had slowly processed the information that she had suspected a few weeks ago when she went shopping with Ava. But her denial was so strong and she would rather accept Sylar's clueless explanation instead of buying that test that she kept talking herself out of. She truly believed he was right that the weight gain brought her back to her original size. It wasn't a baby bump; it was a healthy weight gain. Denial can be a fickle friend to have because no matter how much you deny things; the truth will always come out. She was pregnant. He can hear the baby's heartbeat and judging by his facial expression; their bedroom extracurricular activities did not produce this child. Every part of her wanted this baby to be his and his behavior to the news was from some rooted insecurity that told him he couldn't be happy or she didn't want to have his child. Claire held back the tears as she sent out a silent prayer even as his earlier statement played on a loop in her head _You have no idea how much I wish I could have to been the one_. Her denial had a strong hold on her as she asked the one question that would shatter it to pieces. "And there's no chance that this is yours—ours—?" Never in her life did she wish for a yes—yes there is a chance that baby is mine—yes, I could be the father—yes, I am the father and I am afraid I will mess up this kid.

"I'm so sorry," Sylar said regretfully as he could feel the tears welding up in his eyes. When she tried to pull her hand away from his, he held on tighter. "I wish I could tell you otherwise, but you're showing signs of being pregnant longer than two weeks we have been _together_ like that. You will never know how much I wish I could tell you otherwise."A part of him died inside when he said that. Every part of his being wanted to lie to her, to tell her he's her baby daddy. But he couldn't fake biology. It couldn't make months look like weeks. She would figure out his lie; no matter how much good intention was put into it. The only thing he could do is what he has been doing: be honest and be supportive.

"Me too," she whispered back to him as the tears broke free from her eyes. Her breathing increased as she felt her world crumble. She was pregnant and one of her rapists was the fa…no sperm donor. "God really does hate me." She could not hold back the sob that escaped her body as Sylar pulled her closer to him. He wrapped her in his arms and whispered that he loved her. They would get through this together and he would support whatever decision she made.

That was the problem. She didn't know what the right decision was. If she had an abortion, could she forgive herself for taking the life of a child who could not be held responsible for the sperm donor's crimes? Would her body even let the abortion happen or would it protect the baby like her ability protects her? If she gave the baby up for adoption, would the parents be like the ones she loves or the ones that Sylar hates? His father was a monster and so was his adoptive mother/aunt. Would her baby be raised by someone like Samson and Virginia Gray or someone like Sandra and Noah Bennet? Could she take a risk on the baby's life that it would have a loving home or would he or she end up in foster care? Would the baby have an ability that the foster parents couldn't understand or explain? If she kept the baby, would she come to resent it because he or she would be a living reminder of what that man did to her? Would the baby look like that God awful man, making her not want to look at him or her? What would she tell her child when he or she asked why they didn't have a daddy like their friends? Would it be fair to tell a child that Mommy doesn't know who Daddy is because Daddy raped Mommy? Claire firmly believed that no child should have to know the words abuse and rape. She felt Sylar hold her tighter and wondered if he could love a child that wasn't his? One that was created in such a violent manner? Would he hold the baby responsible for the sperm donor's crimes? If she kept it, would he want to be the daddy or would he walk away?

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that there was no _right_ decision. Only what decision could she _live_ with. Claire wished her mother was here to tell her what to do, but at the same time, she never wanted her family to know she was gang raped twice while Danko recorded the whole thing. She just didn't want to see that disappointment in her mother's face. _I should have been stronger. Fought back harder to keep them from doing that to me. Oh God, what am I going to do?_ In that moment she felt completely alone in the world, Sylar pulled her onto his lap and held her close and whispered "I love you." Claire held on tighter to him, afraid that if she let go he would disappear too.

"You are not alone. You have me. You'll always have me." He whispered. "I love all of you. That's never going to change."

_How does he always know what to say to keep the demons at bay?_ Claire felt her body fall with Sylar's onto the bed and he pulled her tight in his embrace. He whispered soothing words to her as Claire held onto him with a tight grip.

* * *

_Wednesday_

Claire started to wake up and moved closer to the other side of the bed to snuggle up to her bedmate. She woke up the instant her body hit bed instead of boy. "Sylar," she whispered, knowing that his sensitive ears would pick up her voice. When she didn't receive a response, she quickly got out of bed and put her robe on over her pajamas. A bad feeling crept over her body. Sylar was acting weirder than usually last night before bed. When he kissed her goodnight, it felt more like good bye kiss. Claire shook off her suspicions when he pulled her close before he fell asleep. _No he didn't!_ "SYLAR!" she yelled as she reached the kitchen to see Matt Parkman placing a plate of chocolate chip pancakes on the placemat across from him on the island. Panic coursed through her veins. Sylar would never let her eat this, especially now that he knows she's pregnant. Yesterday he was more health conscious than usual—which she didn't think was possible. The sight of two place settings made her want to cry. _Damn hormones._ "Please tell me he's at June's because he finally pulled his head out of his ass and realized his grandmother adores him." She hated the begging she could hear in her voice, but she couldn't survive it if he abandoned her. Especially now that she is pregnant with…she couldn't say it.

"I'm sorry Claire," Matt said slowly with empathy sketched into his facial features.

"How long?" She was going to find him and kill him. When he came back to life, she would kill him again until the anger was gone.

Matt glanced at his watch, "He should be knocking on your grandmother's door now."

"My grandmother as in Angela?" she asked slowly and confused, "Why would he go there? Everyone there wants him dead!"

"He's going there to join in their efforts to find Danko," Matt told her, "It's what we both wanted, for him not to do this alone. My duty is to stay behind and keep you two safe."

"Two? He told you!" Claire was taken back that Sylar would disclose this to Matt. Granted he was a trusted friend, but still. It hurt.

Matt inwardly cursed himself for letting that slip. "More like I told him," Matt corrected and when Claire looked at him confused. "It's a long story." Claire looked at him and he sighed before continuing, "It involves me looking for the extra heartbeat and ending with me pointing at you being the one with it, not Ava like he originally thought."

"Oh, that makes sense." She felt the weight is his potential betrayal lift from her shoulders.

"I won't tell anyone Claire," Matt promised. "I would never do that to you. You can trust us to keep your secret as long as you want. We will keep you safe from Danko too."

His comforting words reignited the fury inside of her. Sylar promised to be with her through this and instead he runs off to New York without her to face _her_ enemy with her family. "Idiot!" she mumbled under her breath. Her dad and Peter were going to kill him when they saw him. And keep killing him until they found his kill switch. _Claire, it's very important that you remember what I'm about to tell you._ She could still feel the ghost of his breath on her neck as he whispered in her ear where his kill switch was located. Just in case she needed to know for the future. She was furious as his carelessness. Her family would never accept his assistance—especially if she wasn't there to play referee. "We're going to New York."

"We knew you wouldn't stay behind," Matt told her as he pointed to the bags by the door. "But Sylar told me to give it a try. We leave after we eat. Sylar told me to make you something nutritious," he gave her a sly grin, "I think there is nutritional value in the chocolate right?" He pulled out the chair for her, something he had witnessed Sylar do for her numerous times.

Claire cracked her first smile since waking up alone, "No, but I'm in the mood to piss him off." She waited for Matt to join her before asking, "You didn't pack my bag right?" She was relieved when he shook his head no. Nothing against Matt but she didn't think either of them wanted him going through her underwear drawer.

"He just wanted a head start," Matt answered her unasked question of why they had been left behind.

Claire narrowed her eyes at him. "He thinks he'll get Danko before we can get there doesn't he?" She didn't like this one bit. He wasn't supposed to go to New York alone. They were going to go together. It bugged her that he had left her behind. She wasn't sure if there was a word in the English language to describe how angry she was that he didn't bring Matt with him—an ally among her family. Nothing against her mother, but when the fight erupts, she'd rather have Matt at his side than her mother.

"He'll be fine," Matt comforted her as he reached over and patted her hand. "He told me to tell you not to do anything stupid because he's taking care of everything."

"He's not invincible you know," Claire nearly screamed at him, "And I wish he knew that too!" Claire stood up and threw her napkin on the table. She wasn't hungry anymore. Sylar was expecting them to take _days_ to drive there, no doubt using a carefully mapped out route like the one he mapped out to get them from California to North Carolina. Claire was determined to make it in _hours_. She grabbed the phone and dialed a familiar number.

"What are you doing?" Matt asked, but he could already guess the answer without his ability.

"June its Claire—do you still have access to the jet Andrew used for business—Could I borrow it to get to New York—there's a family emergency—one hour?" Claire turned to Matt and smiled. "Thanks June." She placed the phone on the table and grabbed a pancake before heading to her room. "Flight leaves in an hour with or without you. June is also arranging for a car to pick us up when we landed in New York." She stopped at the hallway and turned towards him. Her eyes narrowed as she ordered, "And don't even think about warning him."

Matt scrambled to wash the dishes and placed their bags in the back of the Range Rover when Claire exited the house. He doubled checked the house was locked before getting into the vehicle. Matt glanced at Claire's angry face and wasn't sure who he should be more afraid of when they reached their destination four days earlier than expected; Claire or Sylar.

* * *

_New York City_

Sandra answered the door by the fourth knock. "Sylar," she said with a huge grin on her face and hugged Sylar, who was caught off guard by her warm welcome. Her eyes searched for her daughter as she pulled away from him. "Where's Claire?"

"She's safe," Sylar assured the older woman.

"What the hell is _he _doing here!" Peter yelled as he drew Noah's attention to the door.

"I have a plan to flush out Danko," Sylar told them as he walked across the threshold into the penthouse.

"And why would we agree to go along with anything you've planned?" Peter's eyes scanned the area looking for any type of weapon he could use against the man.

"It's not for me," Sylar told Claire's angry uncle, "it's for Claire. Hate me, I really don't care. But everyone in this room wants Danko to pay for what he did to Claire. I have an idea that could change the rules in this cat and mouse game he's playing—draw him out and bring him to us."

"Where is my daughter?" Noah asked.

"She's safe with Parkman and that is all I am going to say without doing a sweep of this place," Sylar told him, "So you in or out? I have a lot of work to do and only four days in which to do it in. So let me know now if I'm wasting my time here."

"What happens in four days?" Noah asked as Sylar pointed to his ear. "I swept the rooms already. We're not bugged."

"No offense, but I haven't survived this long by trusting people. I did it by being overly cautious." Noah watched Sylar and he worked around the penthouse making sure that there were no listening devices. When he came up empty, Noah gave him a smug smile.

"I told you that no one is listening in."

"When it comes to Claire, would you rather have me be sloppy or cautious?" Sylar snapped back.

Of course he never wanted anyone to be sloppy when it came to Claire's safety. Sylar was nearly impossible to find all those years Noah was hunting him. When he had Claire with him, he thought for sure he would be able to catch up to them quickly to get his daughter back before Danko could get his hands on her. Sylar had once again proven Noah Bennet wrong. He was even _harder_ to find with Claire than without. Sylar was more careful to cover his tracks when Claire was in his presence than without. Mostly because he knew if he was found, he would be impossible to defeat. When Noah gave into Sandra's request to start looking for Danko his only comfort was that Sylar couldn't be found and Claire would be safe. With Sylar here and Claire no where to be found, he was nervous about her safety because the simple fact was Matt Parkman was no Sylar. Danko could easily pick up their trail while Sylar was here with them. "What happens in four days?"

"Claire and Parkman make it to New York by the route I carefully mapped out," Sylar explained, "It avoids highways and places most likely to have traffic cameras. Once in New York, it's a straight shot to this place. So back to my original question you two in or out?"

The two men looked at each other as they weighed the pros and cons of working with Sylar in their heads. Peter was the first to respond by nodding yes to Noah.

"What's your plan?" Noah asked the serial killer.

"I need someone to procure a poster board as big as you can find and a black marker. Peter, I need you to absorb my shape shifting ability." Sylar held his hand out for the younger man to take.

"I will get the poster board and marker," Sandra volunteered as she grabbed her purse. Sylar reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out money for her to use. She shook her head no.

"Don't be ridiculous," Angela said drawing the attention of the room, "That's what the help is for." She raised her voice, "Carrie, I need you to run an errand for me." A beat. "Quickly, I'm not getting any younger." Unlike Sandra, Angela had no objections to taking Sylar's money to pay for the items he requested.

As Angela was busy ordering the maid, Peter took one step closer to his brother's killer. "When this is over, I'm going to kill you," he promised before he shook the serial killer's hand.

"I welcome the challenge," Sylar told him with a smirk on his face. He could almost hear Claire's voice in his head telling him to stop being an ass.

Peter broke contact when he absorbed Sylar's shape shifting ability. "What's next?"

"I'm thrilled you asked," Sylar's face lit up with excitement as he rubbed his hands, "Because it's going to be so entertaining coaxing that rat out of his hole."

* * *

_Present Time_

"There is no way Danko bought that performance!" Sylar stated as he crossed his arms and glared at Claire.

"Do me a _huge_ favor and stop being such a pansy and grow a pair," Claire shot back, "Danko would never predict that we would be working together."

Sylar practically growled as he grabbed her upper arm and pulled Claire towards the kitchen. They stopped dead in their tracks to see the true Claire Bennet standing next to Matt Parkman with her arms crossed. The real Claire scowled at Sylar and her imposter. "Which one of your is _actually_ Sylar?" she demanded.

The shell shocked man wearing Sylar's face had just opened his mouth to speak when Claire received her answer. Her doppelganger stalked towards her and her face wore the same irked expression Sylar would give her for doing something he deemed _dim-witted and irresponsible_. When the doppelganger walked out of the view of the windows she ordered Sylar to hold out his hand since he was still in view of the window. Sylar did as asked, even though he did not understand the reasoning until he saw a book fly by him and land in Claire's hand. The doppelganger thrust the book against the real Claire's chest.

"What's this for?" She asked looking at the dictionary in her hands.

"Apparently you do not know what the words _don't do anything stupid_ means so I thought you should look it up for future reference. Because coming to here now is doing something stupid!" The vein in Claire's neck was sticking out, the second tell tale sign this was Sylar mimicking her body. It was the vein that always told her if she pushed him too far because he was livid with anger.

Claire glared at him…well her since it was her angry face staring back at her. "Shift back to yourself so I can hit you and not myself!"

When he transformed back into himself, he surprised everyone but Claire and Matt that Sylar listened to her. Claire forcibly shoved the book against his chest and kept pushing Sylar towards the bedrooms. Sylar noticed that Peter was still standing in view of the windows and Danko would be witnessing two Sylars in a few moments. He quickly muttered an apology before taking control of Peter's body. Peter disappeared as Claire shoved Sylar in view of the window. "You jackass!" she yelled, "You promised and you left me!" Her voice rose with each word spoken. "After what happened—"

Sylar quickly covered her mouth as the book dropped between them. "Do you really want to have this conversation here?"

She removed his hand from her mouth, "No, let's go to my room and finish this."

"Latter," he said as he pulled away his hand she reached for, "We have things to do and a rat to find."

"No _now_," Claire ordered as she grabbed him by the belt buckle and pulled him towards her room.

Sylar awkwardly followed her and he tried to break her iron clad hold on his buckle. "Christ Claire," he exclaimed, "I'm coming! You can let go of my pants now!"

"Just as soon as we're to our room I will!" she shouted back as she tightened her grip.

Noah glared at the retreating couple and went after them until Sandra stood in front of him. When he tried to move around her, she moved with him. "Sandra," he warned.

"Let them be," Sandra said, "It doesn't concern us."

"She's our daughter," Noah retaliated, "It concerns us."

"And judging on his reaction to her being here and the way she's manhandling him right now, that's her boyfriend," Sandra explained, "Whatever relationship bump this is, has nothing to do with us and everything to do with them."

"They are not in a relationship!"

"Noah, no one gets that mad with someone they are not emotionally invested in," she told her soon to be ex.

Noah turned around and searched out the man he had tortured for weeks, "Parkman!"

"Oh no!" Matt exclaimed as he held up his hands, "I am not getting involved in their lovers spat! I've been scarred enough walking into rooms I had no business in! Now if you excuse me, I'm going to call my wife." Matt moved past them for some privacy to make his call. He stopped before going into the living room as he saw Noah heading to the door to eavesdrop. He casually mentioned to Sandra in a louder tone than needed, that one of Sylar's abilities was to distort sound to keep Peeping Toms from eavesdropping on his conversations. They both shared laughter at Noah's annoyed grunt when his plan failed. He was practically pouting like a toddler as he went back to the map to distract him from what was going on in that room.

* * *

Claire released him once they were inside the safety of her bedroom. She turned around to stare him down as she crossed her arms. She waited for an explanation that he seemed uninterested in giving her. "Well?"

"Stop giving me that look," he told her, "You knew I was coming back."

"Did I?" she asked rhetorically.

"Did Matt give you a quarter?"

The question threw her off for a second as she tried to remember the significance before the memory came into her conscious. The quarter Sylar would give her for the swear jar when she told him to fuck off. "No."

"Then you knew I was coming back."

Claire uncrossed her arms and shuffled from side to side under his gaze. "It's just that last night I found out that I'm pregnant with a—a—you know." She couldn't finish the sentence as reality was still a hard pill to swallow. Per her request, Sylar had gotten her a bag full of different pregnancy tests. All of them tested positive. "Do you have any idea how I felt when I woke up alone and you were just gone. You said you'd be there for me and you just left."

"Going after Danko is me being there for you. You won't have to live your life with that fear anymore. You'd be free from him."

Claire wasn't sure if she would ever be free from what he did from her. The knowledge he was dead would bring her cold comfort on the bad days. "But you left me behind."

"To keep you out of danger," he immediately corrected her, "To keep you safe."

Claire let out a big breath of laughter and her body visibly relaxed in front of him. She walked towards him with a determined look on her face. "Don't you get it yet?" she asked him as she stood in front of him. She grabbed his arms and moved to put them around her and smiled when he wrapped his arms around her after her prompt. He pulled her close to him and rested his head on hers. "This place right here has been my sanctuary since Coyote Sands. It's where I feel the safest because I know nothing can hurt me while I'm in your protective embrace." She wrapped her arms around him and breathed in his familiar scent. "And when you left, you took my sanctuary with you."

"I'm sorry," he whispered sincerely.

"I know, just don't do it again." They stood there for a few minutes before she pulled away. "So what happens next?"

"You're going to do whatever it is you and your mother do together. I've started a very fascinating cat and rat game with Danko." He leaned closer with mischief in his eyes, "And it's time to flush the rat out of hiding." He kissed the crown of her head and started towards the door.

"Be careful," she told him as he opened the door.

"Always am," he responded back. He stopped at the doorway and looked at her. "I know this is going to be hard for you but don't—"

"Do anything stupid," she finished, "I know."

"I know you know the words sweetheart," Sylar said, "It's the _doing_ part you seem to have difficulty comprehending. So just for kicks and giggles let's see if you can put it into practice today. If you do, there will be a prize in it for you."

Claire grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. It missed him by a few feet and hit the wall.

"Wow, that was painful to watch," he said through his laughter, "You have the worst aim I've ever seen!" He managed to sober himself up and said, "Remind me to never be around you when you have a gun."

Claire glared at him and threw another pillow at him. She missed again and her aim was further off than her first attempt. He blew her a kiss before he left the room. She thought about going after him so she could hit him as hard as she could, especially when she could still hear the faint echoes of his laughter. "Ava's right, he's a jackass," she mumbled under her breath as she threw herself back onto the bed. She groaned when she realized that she wanted the pillows she had thrown at him but was too lazy to get. A few seconds later the pillows slowly landed next to her. Claire looked at the door in time to see him wink at her before he left again. She buried her head in the pillow as a huge smile broke out on her face. She was safe again.

* * *

Noah stood there in complete fascination of Sylar. If the man wasn't a complete sociopath, he would want him as his team—possibly his partner. Noah had been a silent observer with Matt, while Peter argued with Sylar as he pulled the pins from the map.

"Danko has been spotted there on several occasion," Peter said as he grabbed the pin and put it back on the map. "That is why I used a red pin."

"Stop thinking like a layman and st—"

"Thinking like a killer?" Peter shock back.

"No, like this is a chest board," Sylar said as he gestured to the map, "Danko is tracking us because we are the key to getting Claire back. Making sense yet?" Peter's furrowed brow told him he didn't understand. "This pin here that you are insisting is so important—."

"Because it is," Peter interrupted.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

Sylar inhaled to keep himself from slapping the other man in the back of the head. "Why is it so important?"

"Red means either someone in the room or Noah's sources spotted Danko—"

He inhaled again as he tried to keep his temper in check. Sylar remembered Peter to be smarter than this _or was he always this dense?_ "Why is the hospital important to Danko?" Sylar helped Peter with finding his logic as his patience for stupidity ran dry. "You said Danko is possibly healed from the injuries I gave him. We also know he went to animal hospitals or animal clinics to steal the medication. So why has he been spotted on numerous occasions at this hospital?"

"I don't know."

"There has to be a connection he would chose this hospital, when there were two clinics and another hospital closer to this one."

"I don't know!" Peter repeated as his patience for Sylar ran out as well. The man wanted a specific answer but refused to ask Peter the question.

"There is nothing special about this place to anyone in this room."

The men shared a smile as Peter finally understood the question Sylar had been asking him. "I work there."

"Which is why this isn't important," Sylar told him as he removed the pin.

"Why?" Peter tried to take the pin back but Sylar wouldn't let him have it.

"Think like this is chess—Jesus! Are you always this dim-witted?" Sylar mumbled before saying clearly, "I'll use tiny words this time. Danko is hunting all of you."

"What?" Noah asked as he drew the attention of his enemy.

"He's hunting all of you, Sandra, Angela, Peter, and you. He knows you will lead him to Claire. He's learning your schedule, routine, security, so when Claire comes back, he's laid the ground work to her captivity. If he became too impatient he would grab one of you to draw her out of hiding. Because everyone in this room knows that she would not just do nothing if Danko took one of you. She'd give herself up in a heartbeat to save you." Sylar turned his attention back to the board. "All of these red pins, are they places you go to often?"

"Some of them," Peter said as he did as Sylar instructed and removed any pins that were regular places he or someone in the house frequented. When he was done, it had eliminated over half of the pins.

Sylar then drew his attention to the remaining pins. "What is this one?"

"It's a soup kitchen." Peter continued to answer all of Sylar's questions to the map. When it was finished, Sylar had shrunk their mile radius to three city blocks. "How do you do that?"

"You have to think like a predator," Sylar told him, "Get into their mind and use what you find against them. Danko's been several steps ahead of you the whole time. He most likely stalked Claire for months and revised his kidnapping plan numerous times and did practice runs before making his move. He needed everything to be perfect. This means he thought of various problems that could arise and what he would do if it happened."

"Get into his mind? He's a sicker bastard than you," Peter said.

"You get into his mind, but you keep yourself planted in your reality," Sylar said, "The key is not to get lost in his mind. You can understand your enemy without losing yourself in the process."

Peter stood there a little awestruck. For all of Sylar's flaws, his ability to find the impossible was quite amazing. Not that it would forgive him of his sins.

* * *

_Thursday_

_I'm going to kill him!_ Noah Bennet was furious. _I'm going to kill him!_ Noah exiled Sylar to the couch last night because he didn't want that bastard to share a bed with his daughter. The first thing he saw when he walked into the living room was Sylar and Claire pressed up together as they shared the tiny couch—fast asleep. _I'm going to kill him!_

"This jealous glare of yours is too incestuous for my tastes," Sylar muttered as he eyes opened a crack.

"Behave," Claire told him as she started to wake from her slumber. "And you forgot to say something about his creepy breathing thing." She mimicked Noah's heavy breathing for a few seconds before laughing at herself.

"What she said," He opened his eyes fully and yawned. When his eyes landed on Noah again, he titled his head to the side with his massive eyebrows furrowed together. "Do you have any concept of personal space?"

Noah waited until they were both awake and sitting up. "I'm pretty sure I made my position about you two sleeping together very clear last night."

Claire rolled her eyes. "And I made my position clear that I'm an adult and I'll sleep where or with who I want to sleep with."

"Whom," Sylar corrected out of reflex.

"What?" Claire asked as she wasn't sure she heard him right. _He did not just correct my grammar in front of my father!_

Sylar cringed, "It's whom I want to sleep with, not who." He shook his head at his own stupidity for actually answering her when she glared at him. "Sorry."

Claire looked back at her father who was driving her more insane than Sylar correcting her grammar. Which was quite an achievement considering the fact that she never thought she'd find anything more annoying than that but Noah Bennet wins the prize. Ever since she'd walked through the door he has tried to dictate her every move—especially when it came to Sylar. That is what angered her the most. Sylar saved her and earned her forgiveness but her father continued to treat him like the devil he used to be, not the person he'd become. Sylar had changed in many ways, but her father was still the same.

"You made that point was painfully obvious last night when I walked in on you giggling as you were removing his shirt."

"Jesus," Sylar said, "She was helping me! It was the least she could do since she was the little vixen who dislocated my shoulder!"

"And how did that happen again?" He did help Sylar pop his shoulder back into place. Of course he made it more painful than necessary. After that, Sylar announced he was sleeping on the couch to get away from their insanity.

"I'd rather not relive that moment of my life ever again," Sylar muttered under his breath as he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Claire asked his retreating form.

"To bed and away from this insanity," Sylar answered, "So do me a favor Bennet and stop being you... and Claire, let it go."

Claire watched him disappear around the corner. How could he ask her to just let go of her justified anger. If her father wasn't so stubborn, she never would have gone through the horrors that she did. With the evil version of Sylar or Danko; she could not let it go. She wanted to unleash all of it. Last night when her father practically kicked Sylar out of their room, she was furious. Claire knew Sylar was trying to not rock the boat anymore than it needed to be by respecting the wishes of a man who did not deserve it. He did it to show Noah he had changed. Claire tried to respect his decision last night. She went to bed but had difficulty falling asleep. It was the first night sleeping alone since Sylar came back into her life and she was petrified of the dark. Sure, Sylar and Matt had spent the day increasing the security. But as she lay there in her designated room at her grandmother's home; all she could think about was that Danko was very close and he still wanted her. She couldn't fall asleep without the security that his presence brings her. Sylar knew she was coming before she got to him. He scooted over as she wedged herself between the couch and him. Because as usual; he needed to have his body between her and any potential threat.

"How could you be with _that_ man after everything he did to you!" Noah exclaimed as he drew her away from her thoughts.

"I forgave him."

"How is that even possible?" He sat down next to her in Sylar's vacated seat. "After everything that monster's did to you!"

"He's more than earned my forgiveness," Claire said in defense of her boyfriend, "You on the other hand, not so much."

"What did _I_ do?"

"You refused to let Matt release Sylar."

"If was for your protection."

"I'd been gone for weeks!" Claire countered his argument, "You never found me until _I_ showed up at _your_ door!" Claire breathed in, "Do you have any idea how much your _**protection**_ cost me?"

Noah looked away in shame. She was right. He never found her and because of that, his little girl was violated in more ways than he will probably ever know—because she will not tell him. What killed him was the thought that she had already shared those experiences with Sylar. _When did I become number two in her life?_ Like his daughter, Noah Bennet was finding this new reality he lived in a hard pill to swallow.

"If it wasn't for Sylar, Danko would still have me," Claire continued, "He found me in twelve hours. _Twelve hours!_ Do you know how much pain _you_ could have saved me from if you had just listened to Matt?" Claire wiped the tears that had escaped from her eyes. "Matt saved my life when he defied you. If it wasn't for his courage, I'd still be _his_ prisoner." Claire couldn't stop the crying. When she started sobbing she didn't know is she should blame the person she was with, this place, or the hormones cursing through her veins. Maybe it was a combination of all three.

"Claire Bear, it will be okay," Noah said as he scooted over and wrapped his arms around her. He started to rub her back when she pushed him away. "Claire?"

"Don't touch me!" she whispered and when he tried to hug her again she screamed, "You don't get to touch me!"

Within seconds, Noah saw a dripping wet Sylar, holding onto a towel, rounding the corner. "Claire," He had just washed the shampoo out of his hair when he first heard her whisper not to be touched. He had shut off the water and grabbed a towel when she screamed it. Sylar ran to Claire as the irrational fear that Danko might have taken her controlled his quick movements. He saw her sitting there with her father, right were he had left them. A few seconds later Claire had glued her body to his wet one. "What's going on?" he asked Noah as he put his arms around her to enclose her body to his. Noah eyes seemed to be glued on his daughter so he repeated, "What the hell happened here!"

Sylar's raised tone and broke the trance he was in. "We were just talking about you; she stared crying and wouldn't let me comfort her." Noah recapped. He felt helpless as he watched his little girl cling to that monster. It made him angry and sad at the same time; angry that it was Sylar and sad that it wasn't him.

_Great, she has been here less than a day and she's already regressing._ He hugged her tighter as he tried to think of what to do when her tiny voice interrupted his thought process.

"You were right, I shouldn't have come," she whispered, "I'm not strong enough for this."

"That's complete nonsense," Sylar told her, "You're the strongest person I know." Claire pulled her face from his chest and looked at him. He gently wiped away her tears.

She laughed as she wiped the moisture from her face. "You got me all wet."

"You got me all snotty," he told her, "I might have to shower again to get rid of all this nasal waste you spread all over me."

The sound of door opening and the buttons being pushed in the new security system interrupted their moment. "Thanks for coming with me Peter."

"No problem." The dual stopped when they saw the scene in the living room. "What's going on in here?"

Matt had come in shortly after from his sweep of the neighborhood and saw Claire trying to burrow her mortified body into Sylar's. "Bad day?" he asked, not phased about the state of Sylar's dress or lack thereof.

"More like kick you in the teeth day," Sylar told him.

"It was all his fault!" Claire said in an accusatory tone as she pointed the finger at her father who wore the picture perfect expression of a man who was just thrown under the bus by his own daughter before she molded herself back into Sylar.

Sandra handed off her groceries to Matt and walked slowly to Claire. "Sweetheart?"

Claire turned her head and looked at her mother. She started crying again and threw herself at her mother's arms. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's going to be okay sweetheart."

"Make him stop," Claire asked in a child like voice, who wanted her mother to fix all her problems.

"Who?"

"Your husband," Claire told her as she cried harder, "He's trying to make my Sylar go away."

"Would you put some clothes on Sylar!" Noah ordered, "No one wants to see that!"

"I'm just going to put some clothes on," Sylar said. He didn't do it to appease Bennet but Sandra who was trying hard not to show her discomfort at his lack of dress. Sylar left quickly so he could get back to Claire as soon as possible. He was half way to Claire's room where their suitcase was when he felt her tiny hand slide into his.

"Mom said I would be more comfortable with you," she answered his silent question, "Especially since she is planning on ripping him a new one." He gave her a strange look. He couldn't believe those words came out of Claire Bennet's mouth. "Her words, not mine."

When she smiled, Sylar knew those hormones where going to be a challenge to try and keep up with. "Why is that funny? I know why I would find it hilarious but you—"

"Not that," Claire interrupted him, "It's good to have her support. Someone on my side since Dad isn't on Team Sylaire."

He stopped at the door and looked at her. "Team what?"

"Sylaire," she repeated, "It's a—"

"I know what it is," Sylar told her, "it just sounds weird. Besides we are two people, not one. It just sounds like you're too lazy to say Team Sylar and Claire. So let's leave that nonsense behind us and never speak of it again."

Claire laughed at Sylar pulled her into the room. He went to the dresser and handed Claire his phone to talk to Dr. Keller as he put on his clothes.

Sandra waited for Peter and Matt to leave before she turned her attention to Noah. "You're making a bigger mess with your relationship with your daughter. So I suggest you get your head out of your ass before you lose her."

"She's in a relationship with the devil. I'm not going to be okay with that!"

"You're wrong Noah," Sandra said, "She's with a changed man who has a dark past; who may I remind you, saved her from the devil."

"A leopard doesn't change its spots," Noah told his wife, "Once a killer, always a killer."

"Noah, if you don't let go and start supporting your daughter; you're going to lose her too."

"What do you mean by too?"

"I told you I wanted a divorce," she reminded him, "And now that Claire's back and Sylar's here to help find Danko—"

"You're going to file," he finished. He knew she told him she wanted a divorce. He just thought hat she would change her mind when Claire was safe at home. "Isn't there anything I can say or do—."

"You're up in arms about Claire's relationship with Sylar, but she's luckier than me," Sandra told him, "She's falling in love with a man who _refuses_ to lie her. I fell in love and married a man who lies as much as he breathes. I could overlook the lies you told for your job because it was for your job. But our marriage was over the instant my daughter was kidnapped and you never bothered to tell me." Sandra walked away from him to help Peter and Matt with the groceries. She didn't know where Angela was, but hoped she could take her sweet time coming back. Sandra had quickly found out how insufferable Claire's biological grandmother could be.

* * *

Noah was a few paces away from Claire's room. He volunteered to retrieve Sylar on their discussion on Danko. He was surprised to find the door open, he didn't think Sylar would be that courteous of Noah's feelings on them being in a room together—alone. He knew Claire would have just locked the door out of spite. Sylar's voice could be heard the close he got the door. Sylar was reading a story to Claire when he reached the door. Noah stood at the doorway as Sylar read one of Claire's favorite books _Anne of Green Gables_. They were at the point when Anne freaked out when Gilbert called her carrots and hit him over the head with his slate. Sylar noticed his presence before he knocked on the door. His daughter was curled up next to that monster as he read. When Claire noticed his presence he said, "We are meeting now to debrief from today and get Matt and you up to speed on everything else."

"Be right there," Sylar told him. He knew that there was nothing new to tell him that he didn't already know. Noah was trying to save face in front of his daughter and Sylar would give him that. He swatted her ass when she moved closer to him instead of away so he could get up. "Come on lazy bones. I have things to do."

"But I'm_ so_ comfortable," she snuggled closer to him to emphasize her point. She closed her eyes with a huge grin on her face. She felt his arm leave her body and a few seconds latter he swatter her harder in the ass. "Hey!" she shrieked as she involuntarily moved away which gave him enough room to escape. "That was a dirty trick Mr. Gray."

He gave her a cheeky grin, "I learned from the best." He didn't even move when she threw a pillow at him. It landed a few feet in front of him. "That has to be the saddest attempt yet. I'd love to stay and poke more fun at your inability to hit me with a pillow, but I told you before love, I have things to do." He laughed again as she threw another pillow. The sound of someone clearing her throat drew their attention from each other to Claire's mother. "Sandra," he greeted as he walked past her.

"Sylar," she smiled at the man the last time she had spent significant time with, she would only scowl at. She called that progress in their relationship with each other. Sandra shivered at the thought of being a mother-in-law to Sylar. Not because who he was, but because she felt her baby girl was too young for marriage. Sandra took one look at the loving gaze to Sylar's retreating form and she realized her baby wasn't a baby anymore. She was a young lady in love. She closed her eyes briefly to reminisce about the time she was a young waitress who was falling in love. _I hope Claire has better luck than I did._

"You did see that abuse just now right?" Claire pointed to her butt.

"I did," she said as she picked up the pillows.

"Good thing you came when you did."

"I know," Sandra said with a smile as she sat down next to Claire on the bed. "Poor Sylar was being smothered."

"Hey!" Claire objected, "Are you calling me fat!" Claire winced inside. She didn't want her mother to know she was pregnant and by whom. She wanted to hold off on that disappointment as long as possible.

Sandra scooted closer to her daughter and wrapped an arm around her as Claire leaned against her. With her other hand she tucked a stray piece of hair from her face. "The last time I saw you, you were all skin and bones from being starved to death." She gave her daughter a reassuring smile. "I like the look of this Claire better. So Sylar has my blessing to fatten you up all he wants." Sandra winked at her daughter to let her know she was just teasing her.

A huge grin broke from Claire's face, "Thanks Mom."

"Now tell me everything—well almost everything since we last saw each other."

"Sylar encouraged me to go to therapy—." Claire shared _almost_ everything with her mother. She told her about therapy, Sylar teaching her self defense, Ava and Jake, and lastly June. She kept her familiar connection with Sylar a secret thought. It was his to tell. Claire told Sandra how much the letter meant to her and how it gave her the strength and courage to fully commit to her growing feelings she has for Sylar. Claire was open about how their relationship had progressed. How Sylar fought against it every step of the way. Claire sat there and listened to Sandra as she gave her the one thing she craved since she was first confused about her feelings towards Sylar, her advice and wisdom.

After a while they sat in silence as Claire laid her head on her mother's shoulder. Then she asked the question that had been bugging her since reading the letter. "How did you know?"

"How did I know what?"

"That he loved me," Claire said, "You sounded so certain in your letter."

"Because I was," Sandra said as she kissed the crown of Claire's head.

"But how?" Claire asked again, "You have no idea how hard it was to get him to tell me anything he was feeling. You knew without him saying anything."

"This," Sandra said as she ran her finger over the emerald.

"This is just costume jewelry," Claire quickly dismissed, "to keep the perverts and creeps away."

Sandra smiled at her daughter's innocence. She sent a silent prayer to God that her daughter still had some innocence left. "Sweetheart, no man buys this type of ring for a shame marriage," Sandra pointed out. "This ring here is beautiful and elegant. And most importantly, this is not costume jewelry —this is a precious stone." Sandra couldn't contain her smile when she saw Claire stare at it with awe. _Did she really not know?_ "When I see this ring, I know that the man who picked it out took great care when he chose it. A man who was in love with the woman he wanted to wear it."

Claire thought back to the jewelry store in Sylar's obsessive need to find the correct ring to put on her finger. She shook her head at her own foolishness. Even back then when he was denying what he felt, his emotions were making the decisions for him. He was very picky and disregarded every diamond that the jewelry presented to him, insisting that the woman he loved was more valuable—more precious than a diamond. He examined every gem for any flaws and at the time she brushed it off at his own obsessive compulsiveness coming to play again. Claire looked at the ring she could not bear to take off with new clarity. This ring was chosen specifically for her, from someone who adored her greatly. Sandra's laughter had pulled Claire from the thoughts of her ring and the man who gave it to her—a ring she would never look at the same. "What's so funny?"

"It's just," Sandra said between laughs, "I can't believe your father hasn't noticed your matching rings yet." Sandra let out a hearty laugh, "And I just imagined his expression when he realized it." She couldn't contain her laugher, "I really hope I'm there to see it." She gave her daughter a wicked grin. "With a video camera because some moments have to be caught on tape to be viewed over and over again—possibility on that YouTube thing you are always talking about."

Claire couldn't stop herself from joining in on her mother's laughter. She also couldn't ignore how her heart swelled with the knowledge that Sylar was still wearing his _wedding_ ring as well.


	19. Nightmare Revised

**Chapter 19 Nightmare Revised.**

Sylar sat on the loveseat on the balcony of the Petrelli balcony hunched over. His face was buried protectively in his arms that rested on his knees. June briskly walked to her grandson. She could see his back moving frantically up and down. The closer she got to him; she could hear the sobs escape from his lips. She sat down next to him and her heart broke when his tear stained face looked up at her. "Mio figlio prezioso. Tutto andrà bene. Te lo prometto." _My precious child. Everything will be alright. I promise._ She reached out to comfort him but he pulled away from her. "Ti prometto che se mi fai fare questo per voi. Vi ricordo dopo che mi odiano e tutte le ragioni per cui lo fai." _I promise that if you let me do this for you now. I will remind you afterwards that you hate me and all the reasons why you do._

Her plead made the tears fall even faster. He did not deserve anyone's kindness—especially hers. "Non posso farlo più." _I cannot do this anymore._ He whispered as he burrowed himself into her embrace. "Lo non sono abbastanza forte. Ogni volta che risolvere un problema, si rompe di nuovo. Ci sono pezzi troppi." _I am not strong enough. Every time I fix something, it breaks all over again. There are just too many pieces._ Sylar was used to being a failure. He had been one his entire existence on this godforsaken planet. Claire Bennet was the one thing he wasn't supposed to fail.

"Non è vero Gabriel. Sei abbastanza forte. E se avete bisogno di più, il mio prendere." _That's not true Gabriel. You are strong enough. And if you need more, take mine._

He looked at June and whispered, "Non potrò mai stato abbastanza buono per lei." _I will never been good enough for her._ Sylar's voice broke when he came to this realization. "I'm going to lose her."

She wiped the tears from his eyes. "When you love someone, the road is never a smooth one. There are bumps, delays and detours in the journey. Lei è il tuo vero amore, and you do not give up on _your true love_. You have faith that in the light that shines in the darkness. Don't let go of the light. It will bring you both back."

"Nonna—." June's heart swelled at the sound of her familiar name from his lips, even when it came from the broken man in her arms. His sentence was cut off by a frantic scream.

**"SYLAR!"** Claire's ear-piercing scream drowned out Matt's telepathic request _"Get the hell in here!"_

Sylar was on his feet and to the door within seconds. He stopped momentarily when he saw a familiar figure trying to get to Claire as Noah pulled Matt away from Claire. Peter had successfully restrained Sandra from interfering as she vowed vengeance on the intruder if he touched her daughter. Sylar's heart swelled with pride when he saw Claire use a self defense move he taught her against her attacker. She noticed his presence and tried to get to him but the intruder grabbed her ankle to keep her from escaping. Sylar narrowed his eyes at the unwelcome man. "Get the fuck away from her or I will kill you without hesitation or remorse."

* * *

_Forty-Eight Hours Earlier_

Sylar stood there half-listening to Peter's rant while he watched the coffee brew. Each drip was one more drip closer to his first cup of coffee. Sylar was so fucking exhausted. This place had brought out the worst in Claire. He had gotten so used to a full night's sleep that he was feeling the fatigue from two restless nights with Claire. _Is there an off button on this twit?_ Sylar continued to fight the urge to take control of Peter's body to get him to shut up. "Can you give it a rest until I've at least had a cup of coffee?" Apparently that was the wrong thing to say as Peter narrowed his eyes at him.

"Do you take _anything_ seriously or is this just a big joke to you!" Peter said in harsh whisper to keep from waking the household.

"The only reason why you're not against the wall right now is Claire," Sylar warned as he towered over the other man, "because you are her beloved uncle. But please do not construe that as kindness towards you. I am merely tolerating your existence."

"Tolerating _me_?" Peter repeated, "You're still breathing because you have a purpose. Once that purpose is gone, I'm going to kill you."

"Promises, promises," he mumbled under his breathe when he heard a noise. Sylar turned towards the hallway and tried to listen in for the noise he had heard. Exhaustion as well as Peter's heavy breathing and constant chatter made it difficult to focus. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Peter asked as he listened for a few seconds. "There is no one here but you. Everyone else is still asleep."

"Shush," Sylar said had he held up a finger signaling him to be quiet so he could listen. When Peter continued to talk, he rolled his eyes as he suppressed the urge to take control of Peter's body again.

* * *

Claire smiled in her sleep when she felt a hand gently caress her face, "Sylar," she whispered.

"Guess again bitch."

"Danko!" Claire's eyes snapped open as she saw the person of her nightmares lying next to her with his elbow propping up his body has he continued to caress her face. With each touch, he applied more force.

"Don't even think about calling for your watch dog," Danko told her, "I killed him. Thanks to you I jabbed a knife into his sweet spot."

"I would never tell you—."

"Did anyone else tell you that you talk in your sleep?" Danko said with a devilish smirk on his face. "I was able to kill Sylar before taking out the rest of your family. And the fat policeman never stood a chance. They are all gone. No one can save you now." He gave her the most evil smile she had ever seen. "You're mine forever!"

"No!" she cried out. She was too paralyzed with fear to move. She lay there helpless as Danko continued to touch her. He moved from her face, to her arm, to her breasts. "No, it can't be true!" _Sylar, why can't you hear me?_

Danko leaned in and when his face was inches from hers he asked, "Want to make a movie? I was thinking of taking the lead this time. See what a roll in the sheets with a whore would feel like. Those other guys seemed to have fun." He whispered in her ear, "And the benefit of your healing ability is that I can be as rough as I want and I won't leave a mark on your body. Your soul...well that's another story."

He covered her mouth when she tried to scream again. She bit hard and as he pulled his hand away she screamed as loud as she could for the man who promised to never leave her.

Sylar heard the noise again and without hesitation he lifted his hand palm out towards Peter. As he closed his fist, Peter lost his ability to speak. "Do you hear that?" He looked at his now silent companion who looked confused before he shook his head no. "Someone's here," Sylar told him as he opened his fist and release his hold on Peter.

"Where?" Peter whispered as his eyes scanned the room as his ears tried to pick up the noise. He reached out to Sylar to take his enhanced hearing but Sylar moved towards the hallway before he could make contact.

Sylar focused on his hearing as he eliminated the noises in the home to find the one that was out of place. He discovered the erratic heartbeat that came from Claire's room. "Claire," he breathed out her name and ran towards the room. Something was wrong.

Peter took his first step when he heard Claire scream for Sylar and ran after him, who was almost to the room. Noah and Matt had exited their room when Sylar reached Claire's.

The door was already open when Sylar grabbed the doorframe and pulled himself into the room. His eyes scanned the room as he was ready to attack anything that was out of place. When his eyes landed on Claire, he saw a familiar scene play out before him as Claire struggled against an invisible attacker. He was half-way to the bed when Peter reached the room. Seconds later Sylar had Claire wrapped in his arms as she struggled against him and he tried to wake her up.

This was the scene Noah came to and raised his gun to shoot Sylar when Peter stepped between the gun and Sylar. "What are you doing?"

"It's not him she's fighting," Peter told him as he watched from the corner of his eye as Sylar lured her back into consciousness. When Noah lowered his gun Peter stepped closer to Matt. He reached out and touched Matt's arm to absorb his ability. The shock of what he saw briefly paralyzed him until he felt Matt push him. Peter looked at a pissed off Matt. Peter could hear Matt's voice in his head, "_That's her nightmare for her to share with you when she's ready." _Peter scowled at Matt as he continued. _"Hasn't she been violated enough without you adding to it?"_ Peter lowered his head in shame. He did violate Claire's privacy by his actions. He looked back at Claire and knew the moment she woke up because she stopped fighting Sylar and wrapped her arms around him. Sylar in turn, pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head as he mumbled something against her. Sylar locked eyes with Peter before he heard Sylar's voice in his head.

_"That bastard dies today."_

_"Agreed."_ Peter said telepathically. He knew Sylar heard him when he nodded.

Noah placed his gun on the table and went to his daughter. He reached out to take her from the serial killer's arms when Claire screamed at him. His daughter still wouldn't let him touch her. He tried again when Claire jerked forward; taking Sylar with her. The momentum would have landed them on the floor if Sylar hadn't used his ability to keep them on the bed.

"You don't get to touch me!" she screamed again at her father as Sylar had them back in a sitting position on the bed. "This is your fault! He did all those awful things to me because you let him!"

Noah felt like she just ripped his heart out. He opened his mouth to say something when an unlikely person came to his defense.

"No." Sylar told her as she turned to look at him. He moved his hands slowly to cradle her face in his hands to keep her focus on him. "You do _not_ blame your father for this. This is all on Danko. No one is to blame but him."

"But he—."

"If you're going to blame Noah for Danko coming after you than you have to hold me responsible for that offense as well," Sylar told her as she put her hands over his that were still on her face, "He wanted revenge on your fathers and _me_. You don't get to forgive me and hate him. Your father loves you and he thought he was doing the right thing. But everything bad that happened is Danko's fault. And he will pay for all the crimes he committed against you, I promise you that Claire. But don't you dare hate your father and give me a free pass. Because everyone in this room knows I do not deserve your kindness!"

Claire burst into tears as she dropped her hands and scooted closer. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "Please don't hate me." She didn't care how pitiful she sounded. Her hero couldn't hate her. She couldn't survive that.

"I could never hate you," Sylar assured her. "But put your anger where it belongs—with Danko."

Noah stood there dumbfounded that Sylar would defend him. The bastard had Claire were he wanted, him—out in the cold, and then he does _this_. Noah didn't know what to make of it or what kind of game Sylar was playing. But he intended on finding out.

Claire pulled away from Sylar and started clawing at her skin. "I'm so dirty," she mumbled over and over again as she broke away from Sylar and ran to her bathroom.

Sylar tried to go after her to stop her from taking that scolding hot shower when Noah stood in his way. "Get out of my way old man." He failed to keep the threatening tone from his voice.

"You're not going in there with Claire," Noah said, "I don't care what my daughter _thinks_ she feels for you. You will not take away her innocence." Noah blocked his attempt to get around him again as the shower turned on.

"Get out of my way before she scrubs off all of her skin!" Sylar said as he pushed Noah away with his hands. Noah stumbled and fell onto the ground as Sylar stepped over him to get to the bathroom. He grabbed the door knob and cursed when it was locked. He pounded on the door. "Claire," he said over the water, "You have to unlock the door."

"Can't you just use your voodoo to open the door?" Peter asked. He didn't understand how a man with telekinesis was stuck on the other end of the door.

"It's better for her to let me in then for me to force myself in," Sylar said as he pounded again, "Claire please open the door." He inhaled and breathed out the words, "Let me in." Those three words had double meaning to them. _Let me in the room. Let me into your life. Tell me where your head it at with this pregnancy. Tell me about the nightmare._ _Did Danko really rape you?_ Sylar was disturbed with this new information. He didn't know if it was real or a nightmare of promises Danko never fulfilled. "Claire, please sweetheart. Open the door; let me in."

"Move and I'll break down the door," Noah ordered as he put his hand on Sylar's shoulder to try and pull him away.

"You've done enough, thank you very much. Now get the hell out of here!" Sylar ordered as he pushed Noah back with an invisible force.

"I'm not the bad guy here!" Noah countered.

"Neither am I!" Sylar retorted as he turned towards the other man. "Look I know this is a hard reality to accept but you need to get it through your thick skull. Claire doesn't want you here. She sees you and she sees a man who let her be tortured for weeks."

"That was Danko."

"Trust me I know," Sylar told him, "But she's not thinking rationally right now because she's hurting and trying to heal. She's lashing out. There is no reasoning with her when she's like this. The only thing you can do is try and stop her from hurting herself." He pounded on the door again. "Claire, I swear to God if your tiny ass does not open this door by the time I count to ten, I'm coming in. One."

"Noah," Sandra said as she touched his forearm. "He knows what he's taking about."

"What?" Noah was taken back. When did his wife become _pro_ Sylar?

"Two."

Sandra looked at the closed door and wondered if this was the worst her daughter had to deal with in the aftermath of her abduction or if this was a good bad day. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine at that thought. "I know you don't like it, but too damn bad. He's been there for her and knows how to help her. If Claire needs him then she's going to get him. Do you understand me?"

"Three."

"Would you stop that!" Noah snapped at Sylar. The counting was getting on his nerves because he was the one who wanted to be at the door waiting for Claire to let him in. But it wasn't him, it was Sylar. All because his daughter was repulsed by him.

"No. Four and Five," Sylar said through the door.

"Isn't that cheating?" Peter asked.

"Noah can be long winded." Sylar smirked before adding the next number.

"I said do you understand me Noah Bennet," Sandra repeated. "I don't know about you. But I'm tried of you hurting our daughter for your pride."

"Ouch!" Matt said from the doorway as the same time Sylar said seven.

"She's my daughter and he's a killer."

"Three things," Sylar interjected as he listed them on his fingers. "First of all, that's an eight for you Ms. Bennet. Second, you're hands aren't exactly clean either Bennet. I know this because I read your company file. And lastly," he reached behind him to pound on the door. "Nine—." The door opened and a small hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him in. The door slammed behind him and she locked the door. Through the steam Sylar could see the blood retracting back into her body as the skin healed itself. "What the hell did you do?" He reached out for her but she ducked and went around him back into to scolding hot water.

Noah was pounding on the door demanding it be opened when they heard Sylar scream profanity about the water. "What the hell was that?"

Matt hurried to the door and pounded on it. "Hey idiot with the genius IQ; why don't you use your invisible hands to turn off the hot water instead of putting your body between her and the burn-your-skin-off hot water!"

"They are showering together?" Peter exclaimed. "I'm going to kill him!" He charged towards the door and Matt blocked his path. "Get out of the way!"

"Peter," Sandra said in a tone that a mother uses when they are disappointed in their child impulsiveness, "She mentioned being dirty, ran to the bathroom and turned on the water. I highly doubt they are having sex in there."

Peter made a face at the image that ran through his head. "I'm going to be sick."

Sandra turned her attention back to her soon-to-be ex. "If you don't leave now, I'm sure Mr. Parkman will have no problems helping you leave."

"My daughter is naked in there with a monster."

"This isn't three months ago Noah." Sandra couldn't believe how off kilter his priorities were. "I'm not worried about her being locked in a bathroom with a boy. I'm more concerned with the nightmare that drove her to scrub the skin off her body."

"We're her parents."

"And when she's ready, she will come to us," Sandra assured him. "In the meantime, don't you have a rat to find?"

The bathroom door opened and Sylar came out with a towel wrapped around his waist as he carried a towel clad Claire. He set her down on the bed and grabbed the blanket. The four people in the room could see his back healing from the hot water burns. He pulled the blanket around her and started to rub his hands up and down her body, trying to use friction to warm her up. He saw Noah come towards them. "Don't you dare touch her," Sylar said in a calm even tone voice.

"You can't—." Noah started to yell when Claire whimpered and tried to make her body smaller to hide herself from his view.

"Do not touch her," Sylar repeated in the same soft soothing voice, "Do not raise your voice near her. Do not make any sudden movements. Do not do anything without her permission. In fact; just don't move at all Bennet."

The Bennet's stood helpless, watching their cationic daughter just sit there on the bed. She resembled a zombie as she stared at a spot in the wall over Sylar's left shoulder. Noah took the two steps to Claire. He saw Sylar try and stop him before he could put his comforting hand on her shoulder. The instant his hand touched her, his daughter started to shriek and pull away from him. Noah felt himself move against his will away from Claire. When he was five feet away, he had control of his body again. _Don't touch her._ Sylar's threatening voice echoed in his head.

Sylar gauged the distance between them from when she moved away from Noah. "Claire I'm going to move exactly 5.5 inches closer to you okay," Sylar said slowly and quietly. "Then I'm going to touch your arms with my hands. I'm going to run them up and down your arms like before to warm you up."

"Why is she freezing?" Sandra asked when Claire's body wouldn't stop shaking.

"I don't know," Sylar said, "The water burned the skin off my back. I had to disrobe us to get the hot clothes off." He turned his focus back to Claire. He didn't want to waste his energy explaining everything he did to her mother and judgmental father. Not when the memory of her nightmare was causing to her shake uncontrollably. "Matt," he said in the same low soothing voice, "I need you to leave. Take them with you."

"I'm not leaving my daughter—."

Claire cowered away from the loud voice as Sylar glared at Noah. "What she needs is clothes and not an audience!" He gestured to the door. "You want to be useful, why don't you take Peter and Matt with you and keep looking for that rat. I will take care of her."

"She's my daughter."

"I know she is," Sylar told the other man. He was finding it very difficult to keep his patience and wits about him; but Noah was making it very difficult. The only thing that held him together was the knowledge that Claire would freak out if he lost it. "And I know how much she means to you. But there is nothing you can do for her in this room. I know you hate me but I know what I'm doing here." When the older man wouldn't budge Sylar added, "Your presence here is making it worse. Give her space."

Noah was about to say something when he felt a large hand grab his arm and pull him towards the door. "You don't get to play God with her life today." Matt told him as he continued towards the door. "You want to help Claire than let him help her. We can help her by taking her nightmare away from the earth." Matt pushed Noah then Peter through the door and closed it behind them.

Sandra stood there not sure what to do. She didn't want to do anything that would hurt her. But she couldn't do nothing either. She didn't know what to do. Like the men, she needed a purpose.

"Can you get her some clothes?" Sylar's voice drew her from her thoughts. There was a knock on the door and Matt poked his head in. "What is it?"

"June is here."

Sylar stared at him. He didn't think he heard him correctly. "Come again?"

"June is here." Matt repeated. "She wants to see her—." There was a slight hesitation on what to name their connection without giving anything away "—nipotino?" Matt hoped he said grandson right in Italian. When Sylar glared at the name, he knew he either had it correct, slaughtered the word, or both.

"I don't have time for that," Sylar said, "Tell her to crawl back under the rock—."

"Yeah, I'm not going to tell your—nonna that."

Sylar was so angry and tense he just wanted to scream at the top of his lungs and possibly rip his hair out to relieve some of it. Sylar pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of how to deal with this situation. He couldn't be in three places at once and Claire was his top priority. He felt a soothing hand on his shoulder and was confused. The hand couldn't belong to Claire. He turned his head to see Sandra giving him a warm smile.

"I'll take care of your visitor." Sandra was relieved to have something to do that could help take some stress away from him.

"Thank you." He returned her smile and when she reached the door he added, "Please keep your husband away from her."

"Will do," she said as she left, not before taking one last look at Claire. _I'm not jealous. I just wish I could take it all away._

Sylar looked at the fragile woman before him. He inhaled and exhaled before he grabbed the clothes Sandra left. It killed him to see her back in the state he found her in—weeks of progress just gone. _I won't let this city destroy you, I promise._ Sylar quickly fell back into the old routine of walking her through every movement he was doing. He cursed under his breath that June was here. Sylar wanted to bring her back to North Carolina for a session with Dr. Keller. He couldn't do that and be here with the meddling woman who wouldn't just let him be like she did his _whole damn_ _life._

* * *

Sandra walked quickly into the foyer to greet Sylar's guest. She was surprised when she saw the prim and properly elderly woman standing in a stranger's home. Sandra looked closer and could see the fear behind the façade she had. Something was troubling her. "Hello." Sandra gave a warm smile to the guest. "I'm Sandra Bennet."

"June van der Wood." June responded politely as she shook the other woman's hand. "Where is Gabriel?"

"Gabriel?"

"Yes, his lovely wife and his friend Matthew call him by his nickname Sylar."

_Sylar's married? What is he doing with Claire if he's—oh, that's right. Their marriage is a shame. Did she know them wherever they were hiding?_ "I'm sorry, it's just you're the only one who refers to him as Gabriel."

"It is his Christian name," June said as she tried not to show her displeasure at her grandson's choice of nicknames. "And it's the name my daughter gave him, so—."

"You're his grandmother!" Sandra said wide eyed as she lowered her voice as she looked over at the men who didn't seem to notice. With this new knowledge, she could see some facial features that reminded her of Sylar.

"Yes," June said. "Who are you again?"

"I'm Sandra Bennet. Claire's mother."

"Gabriel's mother-in-law."

"They aren't really married," Sandra corrected the woman. "It was a hoax for Claire. She was getting some unnecessary male attention and—."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sandra turned to see an irate Sylar standing a few feet behind her with his arms crossed waiting for an explanation. "How's Claire?"

"She's sleeping."

"How is that even possible after all that?"

"I crawled inside her mind to find her happy place and put her in a deep sleep." Sylar explained to his girlfriend's mother. "I wouldn't have thought about doing that to her after everything that has happened but she needs her rest." His eyes narrowed at June. "So I ask again, what the hell do you think you're doing? You do not belong here. No one wants you here either!"

"Niptino do you do not speak to me like that," June said, "I am your nonna and your elder, your upbringing taught you to respect your elders."

"Sylar we should go," Matt had heard their argument from the living room and came to intervene. He had a strong feeling that this was not going to end well. He had grabbed Sylar's arm to pull him out before June could say what Matt thought she would go with the beginning of that statement.

"Your mamma—." June trailed off when she realized that error of her statement. The eerie silence of the room and the cold look on Sylar's face gave everyone a chill down their spine.

"My mamma what?" Sylar goaded her to finish her sentence. "Taught me better? Raised me better? Would be disappointed in the man I've become? She what?"

"Sylar let it go," Matt whispered as his thoughts were all over the place but the underline theme of rage was ever present in each one.

"Because I didn't _have_ a mother to teach me _anything_," Sylar spat out as he pulled his arm free from Matt's grip. "Lei ha fatto in modo di che !" _You made sure of that. _He retreated quickly towards the door and slammed it behind him.

"What the hell is his problem?" Peter asked coming into the room to see what the commotion was about. He came into the room when Sylar spoke in Italian and stormed out of the penthouse.

"Nothing," Sandra told him before she looked at Matt. "Will he listen to you when he's like that?" Matt shook his head no. He had never seen Sylar like that before and wouldn't know where to begin. June had brought out this new side to him. "Wake up Claire."

"Don't be ridiculous," Peter told them as he started towards the door. "I'll go and get the big baby and bring him back. We need to go over some leads anyways. We can do that and come back."

"Peter I wouldn't—." Matt tried to warn him but the other man had already left.

"Go after him."

"I can't."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why the hell not?"

"If he's gone, I stay with Claire," Matt explained to him. "Sylar doesn't trust anyone but me or him with Claire's safety. He's gone. I have to stay behind with Claire."

"Wake her up," Sandra said again, "before Peter gets himself killed."

"You don't trust him?" Matt said defensively. "He's changed."

"Excuse me," June interrupted the argument that was starting, "What is going on?"

Matt turned his attention to the woman who would be a distraction as well as a trigger for Sylar's temper. He made a quick decision to help his friend. "You need to leave." Matt told June as he grabbed her bag. "Let's go."

"I need to be here for Gabriel."

"If you want any chance with him—."

"What's going on?" Claire was a few feet from them as she was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"You're awake?" Sandra said in complete shock.

"Yeah," Claire said dismissively. She didn't understand why her mother was surprised by this. Since she had arrived in New York she had never slept more than a few hours at a time. Danko would always find a way into her dreams. "I was having this amazing dream about the time we went to Yellowstone. Everything was perfect in my dream. Then there was a light drizzle that turned into a massive—I don't know what to call it. If it was the east coast I'd swear it was a hurricane. I woke up after I heard the door slam."

Matt processed the information as the tried to find an explanation. Sylar had put her into deep sleep. Maybe he had controlled the dream state with his mind to keep the bad out. When his thoughts drew to rage, so did her dream. Sylar must have been focusing on himself as he stormed out that it released Claire from her dream state. _Can he even do that?_ Matt shook his head as he remembered that his father did the same thing to him when he trapped him into a world he created. Sylar had his ability and apparently he understood it better than Matt did.

Claire looked around. "Anyone seen Sylar? I know he's been a little edgy lately and he has that" she looked at Matt for help to explain a phone session with Dr. Cooper, "that thing with that person in thirty minutes."

"He left," Matt interrupted her failed attempt to explain away a therapy session he obviously needed.

The door opened and slammed shut. "That bastard sure is fast when he wants to disappear." Peter made it to the lobby shortly after Sylar but within seconds had lost him in the shuffle of the New York foot traffic. "Matt maybe you can help me track down this lead."

"As long as we stay here." Matt followed Peter into the other room.

Peter shook his head as he grabbed the materials for the investigation. "We need to go to the church three blocks away."

"I can't leave Claire."

"This camaraderie you have with Sylar is really pissing me off," Peter said as he slammed the materials onto the desk, "Claire is safe here."

"I can't leave her alone."

"Noah's here somewhere."

"I can't leave her alone," Matt repeated. "I know you hate him but he doesn't trust either of you with her safety. He _barely_ trusts me."

Peter grunted as he inhaled to and exhaled slowly to reel in his temper. Granted he was Nathan at the time but he was here when Claire was taken as well. It wasn't their fault. No one saw Danko coming until it was too late and Claire paid the price. "I don't understand why you trust him as much as you do."

"He gave me a free pass to his mind any time," Matt told Peter.

"He doesn't block you? Why?"

"So I can know his intentions are true." Matt put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I didn't really need to pry into his mind because his actions spoke the truth. But I did, to see if he was being truthful with me."

"And?"

"The constant chatter running through his mind gave me a headache."

Peter laughed and padded Matt's arm. The third pat, his hand stayed long enough to absorb his ability. He added two more for good measure. "It's hard to believe that he was thinking so much that it caused a headache."

"Me too." Matt smiled at Peter as he watched the younger man gather the information he had a few seconds ago.

"I guess I'm going alone."

"I need you to take me somewhere," Claire said interrupting her uncle's departure.

"I'm thinking the words _hell no_ are appropriate for this situation," Matt said as he looked at Peter, "You concur with my assessment?"

"Yes, I do Matt. It's too dangerous."

"First of all, _concur with my assessment_—stop sounding like Sylar because it's creepy," Claire told Matt, "Second, take me to him."

"Third?" Peter asked and when Claire didn't respond, Peter prompted, "When you make a list of items there is usually at least three."

"Mini fucking Sylars," she mumbled under her breath before saying, "Third, take me or I will go alone."

"I like the fourth option." Matt turned to Peter. "You know the one where she tells you where she thinks Sylar is and you go get him."

"I like that option."

"Not. Going. To. Happen." Claire enunciated each word as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. They weren't Sylar which meant she _actually_ had a fighting chance in winning this argument.

* * *

_Gray's Apartment_

Sylar stood among the dusty items of what remained of his childhood home. He didn't know why he kept paying the rent. It wasn't like he ever wanted to live here again. Maybe it was to keep another little boy from moving in with his family to this cursed apartment. He closed his eyes and didn't know why he came here. This is the last place in the world he'd want to be—second least favorite; Coyote Sands was definite the last place he ever want to be as the images of watching the shape shifter burning while wearing his face and Claire's rescue ran through his mind.

_"I knew you'd come home again, my special boy."_

Sylar opened his eyes and groaned at the figment of his adoptive mother—no baby buyer looked at him. "Go back to hell."

_"Such language,"_ the old woman gave him a stern look of disappointment, _"I raised my boy better than that."_

"Fuck off!" he yelled at the image of the woman who terrorized him for years. "And I'm not your boy!"

_"Such language." _She made a tisk sound as she shook her head. _"You know I hate to have to punish you, but proper boys do not use such foul language."_

Sylar just stood there as Virginia Gray raised a belt to whip him with. He knew this was all in his head but the pain sure felt real when the belt made contact.

_"I'm sorry that I had to do that, but you did it to yourself. I raised you better than this my special boy."_

Sylar walked backwards away from the woman who followed his retreating steps. He hit the wall and slid down it as pulled his legs to his chest, covered his ears with his hands, and closed his eyes tight as he wished this nightmare to be over with. Virginia's voice continued to echo through the walls, he added pressure to his hands that covered his ears and began to hum in desperation to drown out her voice. When a hand touched his shoulder his shot out his hand and sent her flying towards the adjacent wall. When Sylar realized it wasn't his mother, he stopped before he could hit the wall.

"What the hell Sylar!" Peter spat out as he was placed gently on the ground.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair. "You could have said something instead of sneaking up on me!"

"I did. I yelled at you but you never responded."

Sylar opened his mouth to tell off the younger man when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. He turned towards her with a wide-eyed stare.

"Are you okay?" Claire asked him. "I saw June and Mom filled me in on what happened." The concern could be felt in her voice as she wondered what had him in such a trance he couldn't hear Peter screaming at him.

Sylar looked at her with uncertainty and wasn't sure if she was really there. Slowly, he reached out to touch her cheek. When he confirmed that she was real, his cold eyes found Peter again. "Why did you bring her here!" Sylar quickly made it to his feet and stalked over to Peter. "Do you have any idea what danger lies out in those streets! This neighborhood has one of the highest crime rates!"

"I couldn't talk to her out of it!" Peter tried to defend himself. Claire had been an unstoppable force. If he didn't bring her, she was going to come on her own.

Sylar's eyes scanned the room for his idiot partner that was suppose to protect Claire in his absence. He held back the surprise when he couldn't find him. "Where's Parkman?"

"You trained your lackey well," Claire said in a huff as she crossed her arms over her chest. "He wouldn't let me leave."

"So you went after the weak link," Sylar hissed at her before he turned back to Peter. "I hope you at least looked like me because Danko would never believe I would just let her leave with you." Peter nodded. "At least you did something right."

Peter tried hold his tongue, especially since it was Claire's suggestion and not his. "We should—."

Sylar turned towards Claire and cut Peter off. "What the hell were you thinking!"

"I was worried about you!" She screamed back as she threw her hands up in frustration. "Sorry that I care!"

"Why do you have to be so difficult all the time!" Sylar pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to stop himself from saying something he'd regret. "We should go." His voice was soft as he admitted defeat to this argument. He didn't want to be in this place any longer. He never wanted Claire to be in this place. It held too many painful memories and barely any good ones.

* * *

_Petrelli Penthouse_

When the door opened they were greeted by the sight of Matt Parkman. He walked over towards them and held up his hand to signal Sylar to hold off. "What the _hell_ were you thinking!" He demanded to Claire. "I told you no, that it was a bad idea to go after him. Let Peter handle it. Instead you what? Follow him or convince him to take him with you?"

"A little of both."

"What part of _don't do anything stupid_ do you have trouble understanding!" Matt nearly screamed at her. "Forgot about the shit that man" he pointed at Sylar "is going to bring my way from this. You could have been hurt or worse!"

"I'm fine!"

"You will be fine because until further notice I am _not _letting you out of my sight unless you are in your bedroom with him." He gestured to Sylar again. "You are going to eat, drink, and breathe in my presence."

"Gee thanks for letting take a pee by myself." Claire remarked sarcastically as she crossed her arms.

"Be flippant all you want," Matt told her, "But if you pull a stunt like this again. You'll be wishing that I was more like Sylar in his over bearing protectiveness!"

Claire's eyes widen at the thought of someone being worse that the tall dark man next to her, who on cue step between her and Matt. By the look of Peter's face, he was about to do that same thing.

"Back off Parkman," Sylar warned, "and give her some breathing room."

"No," Matt told him, "Not when _he's_ still out there."

"I'm sorry Matt," Claire said as she came out from behind Sylar's protective stance to give him a hug. "I didn't mean to cause you this much heartache."

"It's okay," Matt said as he returned the hug. He whispered in her ear, "But you do realize you have made me worse than Sylar. And I personally didn't think there could be anyone worse than him when it came to you."

"Not to interrupt this little love fest you two have going on here," Sylar told them, "But Peter and I have some things to do so Claire..."

"Don't do anything stupid." She finished his sentence with an eye roll.

"Let's try really hard on practicing that statement you seem to have committed to heart." He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss. She glared at him and turned her head at his statement. He just smiled and kissed her cheek instead. "Ti am oil mio amato," he whispered in her ear. Sylar kissed her other cheek and translated what he had just whispered to her. _I love you my beloved. _She pulled him into the chaste kiss she had denied him earlier. Sylar smiled at Claire and nodded at Parkman as he left with Peter who felt the need to lecture him about keeping his hands off his niece.

* * *

_Two hours later_

Peter stood there watching as Sylar sorted out the information they received from Noah's contact. Noah had cashed in all of his favors people owed him and Sylar was figuring out how these bits of information fit in with everything else. Sylar stopped and look at his watch. After about ten seconds he would close his eyes like he was trying to decide something, then open them and resume his work. Peter wouldn't deny he was fascinated watching him work as he tried to put the pieces of puzzle together. When Sylar stopped for a second time to look at his watch, Peter had asked he what he was doing, Sylar would brush off the response. When he did it again Peter remembered what Matt said about Sylar's brain working so fast. Peter used the ability he absorbed from Matt earlier to listen in.

_Seventy-six, that's in a normal range. Now what is so special about this bakery that Danko seems to have an interest in. There is nothing important here or the areas around it. What am I missing? _ Sylar looked at his watch and started counting again. _Thirteen, seventy-eight—it's a little higher than normal. Increased of two in—_he paused to look at his watch—_five minutes. She's in the kitchen talking to Sandra. She's fine. Known associates of Danko—why is Petrelli staring at me? Am I working too fast for him? I thought he was the smarter brother._ He stopped to look at his watch again. _Fifteen. Ninety. What the hell is going on? No extra heartbeats. Only the usual players. Noah in the office with Matt. Angela is still gone. Sandra in the kitchen. What am I missing? _Sylar turned towards Claire as she stormed in. "Are you okay?" _Seventeen. What the hell happened!_ "Claire, what's going on?"

Claire stood in front of him and her hands immediately pulled at his shirt. Sylar stopped her before she could disrobe him. "I want it." She sounded like a spoiled child in her demand.

_Did she eat? Sandra is saying no. _"You haven't earned it."

"Says who?" Sylar gave her a look and she threw up her hands in the air. "How much?"

"As much as your mother demands."

"I hate you."

"Love you too." He smiled as she walked away. _She's just too damn cute when she's angry. Thirteen. That's better. She must have been nervous trying to pull a quick one on me. Breakfast. She had egg white omelet. _A beat. _No she pretended to eat it and had half of a yogurt. That's not enough nutrients. _"You better eat everything on the plate!" He yelled after her and heard a groan in the kitchen followed by Sandra's laughter. He smiled when he turned back to the table. When he heard her response to _'fuck off'_ to his demand, he laughed. _Bakery might have a known associate. I should have Matt use his influence with the police department to figure that one out. Why is Peter staring at me again?_ He laughed as his sensitive ears picked up on Claire announcing to her mother that she ate everything that _damn devil_ demanded of her and now she's going to collect. _Eleven. Much better. Why the hell is Peter staring at me like I just announced I'm Jesus._

Peter leaned forward and touched Sylar's arm. He smiled when the healing ability took away his headache and then he absorbed Sylar's shape shifting ability. "Parkman was right, you do think too much."

"You were inside my head!" Sylar stared at him until Claire threw her empty plate on the table next to him and grabbed at his shirt.

Claire grunted when his height became problematic. She grabbed his hand and jerked him towards her so she could take it off his gigantic form.

"Jesus Claire!" Sylar exclaimed as he straightened up and took the shirt from her iron grip before he took it off. "You just had to ask for it. Not that this temper tantrum isn't a complete turn on." He said sarcastically.

"I _really_ don't want to be here for this," Peter mumbled before he started to walk away. He increased his stride when he heard Sylar protest when she started to unbuckle his pants.

"I didn't say you could take all my clothes."

"Sylar's rules to clothing. If I eat my whole plate I can have everything on your body." Claire recited back to him. "And since you made me eat everything, I'm taking everything!"

"We should at least take this to the bedroom—let go of my pants. I'm perfectly capable of walking there on my own!"

Peter walked into the kitchen and went straight to Nathan's stash of liquor. He took a shot of whiskey and poured another when someone's stifled laughter stopped him from drinking it. He turned to see Sandra trying to hold back her laughter.

"They are a lot to take in," Sandra said as she gestured towards the living room with her head.

"Do they even care that some people, as in me, don't want to see my niece strip down my brother's murder?"

Sandra stayed silent for a few minutes as she thought about what to say. It was the same problem she had had in Junction City. It was like they had formed a club with its own rules and wouldn't let her join. "We all know that what happened to Claire changed her, Matt and myself might be the only ones who see the change in him as well."

"I see it," Peter interrupted her; "I just don't trust it's not a game he's playing with an emotionally and psychologically vulnerable Claire."

"I understand what you're thinking, I was like that in Junction City," Sandra paused, "and now I'm not sure. She seems worse now than she was before but I don't think it's him. I think it's this city. It's bringing back the memories."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I walked by her room and overhead her talking to someone on the phone," Sandra told him, "It was a therapist. Claire was talking about how she feels that all the progress she made was gone. Before I could hear more Sylar came towards the door with a glass of water. He looked angry and disappointed at me for eavesdropping on Claire's private conversation." Sandra looked away as she still felt the shame of her actions. Her daughter wasn't ready to share with her and she was intruding on that.

"But I'm sure that didn't stop him from taking the water in with her." Peter practically sneered. That asshole makes Sandra feel like a monster for eavesdropping when he's done worse.

"The water was for me." Sandra shook her head at the memory. "I was upset and I can't remember about what in particular, since this is all so overwhelming. He stumbled upon my mini meltdown, listened to me, and offered to get me some water to _rehydrate_ me." Sandra reached over and took the liquor from his hands and dumped it down the sink. "He's different and I hope it lasts. I think it might if he has something to loose. And for their clubhouse behavior—."

"Don't except an invite any time soon?" Peter finished.

"I'm not even sure they know that they are doing it. Sylar was caring for her for days before they showed up on my doorstep. She was malnourished and just broken. She wanted him more than I think _he_ was even comfortable with. She wanted to wear his clothes because she would drown in them. Sylar couldn't force her to eat—." Peter gave her a look. "Yes, he could, but it would be more damaging for her if he did. She had to earn each piece of clothing by eating."

"I hate to say it, but that is pretty genius." Peter's mind wandered to one of Sylar's thoughts from earlier. He was tracking her calorie count. A few minutes later he realized the numbers were her heart rate. Fifteen times six is ninety. In the ten minutes he was eavesdropping on Sylar's inner thoughts, he was tracking Claire's calories, heart rate, monitoring Peter's reaction towards him, making a to do list for Matt and Noah, and trying to piece together all their leads. "He's going to burn out at this rate," Peter mumbled himself.

"What?"

"Nothing," Peter said as he saw Sylar come into the kitchen wearing a different set of clothes.

"What ability to you have?"

"Shape shifting."

"Let's go," Sylar turned around and said, "Want to be twins today? Keep Danko guessing which one of us is the real deal and which one is the imitation?"

Sandra smiled as she watched Peter roll his eyes as he shifted into Sylar. Claire came into the room and looked at the two men. She hugged them both. She told Peter to be safe and gave the real Sylar a quick kiss. Both men waved at her before they exited. When Sandra asked her daughter how she knew which one was Sylar, she simply responded with _I just know._ Sandra didn't like the lack of response but she was happy to know that Noah and Peter couldn't try and trick her into believing Sylar would betray her when it was Peter trying to sabotage their relationship.

* * *

_The next day_

Claire started to come back to consciousness when she heard him talking to her. She opened her eyes to see him resting his head on her abdomen as he spoke to the baby. If this had been his baby, it would have been a welcomed presence, but this baby wasn't his…it belonged to a monster. She opened her mouth to let him know she was awake when her voice caught in her throat at his words.

"Your mom is a wonderful woman, Bean," he whispered, "I know it might not seem like it but she is. You see you are like me, which means you have the misfortunate of being biologically related to a bad man. And I'm really sorry about that. If I could claim you as my own, I'd do it in a heartbeat. No one should have to live with the knowledge their father is the devil incarnated who would hurt others for no reason. Not that I am any better because I used to be like that. I used to be a monster. But your mom makes me want to be a better man." Sylar sighed as he rubbed the small bump. "Please don't hold this against Claire. She's the best person I know. She's in an impossible situation where I'm not sure there's a right answer. And this, Bean; is coming from a man who lives in the morally gray world." He sighed again as he rubbed her stomach again as if the small gesture would bring the baby comfort. "I just want you to know something Bean. I know what it's like to not be wanted. And no matter want happens; just know that I will keep you with me every moment, of every day in my heart. You'll be wanted and loved by me. I promise you that Bean." He sealed his promise with a kiss.

Claire couldn't take it anymore as she closed her eyes and willed the tears away. How long had he been talking to the baby? Long enough that he started referring to it as _Bean. _He wasn't suppose to get attached to the baby until she made her decision, if there would be a baby to attach emotions to. When she felt his fingers brushing the water from her face, she knew she failed to keep her tears at bay. _Damn hormones._

"Are you okay?" His voice was gentle and his gaze was soft.

"Yeah," Claire said as she reached up and grabbed his hand. "Bad dream."

"Anything I can do to help?"

The tears fell freely as she whispered. "Don't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?"

"I don't want the baby—bean, whatever we're calling it!" she cried out as she rolled to her side. Sylar was immediately at her side as he spooned his body behind hers and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"Claire," he sighed, "I know we haven't discussed this, but you're adopted. Biology doesn't make a person."

"But its father is a monster!" Claire screamed out, "It will grow up to be a monster."

"That's not true Claire," Sylar tried to reason with her. "Nature vs. nurture Claire, just because the father is a bad man doesn't mean that the baby will grow up to be like that. Not with a loving mother like you and a family that will be crazy about this kid. With a heart as big as yours, there is no way this kid will grow up without a moral compass firmly in place."

"Yeah right!" Claire snapped at him in a hormonal rage, "Just look at you! Your father was a monster and you—." She trailed off as brain caught up to her mouth. She wished more than anything this was a cartoon where she could grab a hold of those damaging words before they reached his ears. Sylar was messed up more than just DNA, father murdered his mother and his aunt terrorized him. That little boy didn't stand a chance against the likes of Samson and Virginia Gray. And she just threw it in his face. _Oh crap._

"I what?" Sylar asked as he narrowed his eyes, never missing a beat. "Come on Claire, finish your statement."

Claire buried her head in her pillow and held onto a foolish belief that when she lifted her head up that this would all be a dream. She lifted her head and found herself firmly planted in this reality. "I didn't mean it like that. But come on Sylar. The baby's father raped me thinking he was making a porno."

Sylar pulled away from her as he said, "And the bean will turn out to be a monster like me right? Sadistic father will make a sadistic killer—like _me_ right? This baby will turn into me, if not by nature than by my influence."

"Sylar," her voice was trembling. She had unknowingly opened a can of worms that couldn't be closed. Especially since this particular can was a sore subject for him. Twenty plus years later and the wounds from being abandoned are just as deep as they were when they were first made.

"Nature and nurture fucked me over, so this kid has no chance because I would be involved in its life? Is that what you were going to say?" Claire opened her mouth but no words came out. "That's what I thought." He pulled completely away from her and quickly put on his pants. He tugged his shirt on as he walked towards the door.

"Sylar, please—."

"It's okay Claire," Sylar said angrily, "I hear you loud and clear. I'm good enough to fuck, just not good enough for anything else. That if you had this baby my influence would make it evil because that's what I became, who I am. I never had a chance for normal life with a murder for a father and terrorist for an adoptive mother."

"That's not true," she pleaded as she tried to untangle herself from the bedding. "You know I love you."

He looked at her with defeated expression on his face. "I don't blame you. I destroy everything I touch."

"Sylar!" Claire fell out of the bed and tried to untangle herself quickly from the sheets to go after Sylar. When she reached the living room she was greeted by her father and uncle. A few feet behind them was the Haitian. "What's going on?"

"I'm going to make this all better." Noah simply said as he gestured for the Haitian to use his ability to wipe Claire's mind. In a blink of the eye, Matt appeared in front of her to block Renee's attack and her mother was shortly behind. The only thing she could think of was to open her mouth and scream for the man she just hurt beyond words by her own carelessness.

* * *

_Present time_

"Last warning," Sylar told the Haitian who hadn't let go of Claire's ankle yet. "If you value your existence, you will move the fuck away from my wife."

"Wife!" Noah screamed as his brain _finally_ processed the matching rings they must have been wearing this whole time.

"Wife." Sylar opened his hands and surprised everyone in the room when they noticed the electricity continued to dance from his fingertips as the shell shocked Haitian let go of Claire. She ran immediately to Sylar as hid behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her body with his as she prepared to mirror her body movements with his own. The Haitian stepped closer. "I'd back the fuck off if I were you." He cupped his hand to gather the blue jolts in a ball and was ready to throw it. Sylar could hear a slight gasp from June. Apparently his grandmother wasn't educated on his abilities or how he obtained them yet. _I guess Sandra made sure to keep Bennet away from her._

Noah's hold of Matt lessened which allowed him to break free from him. "You shouldn't be able to do that." Noah looked at an equally confused Renee. _How is his ability powerless __to Sylar?_

"It's called empathy," Sylar informed Noah, "You see, Claire and I have something in common with the Haitian here. A tyrant in the family tree." He felt Claire tighten her hold on him. She was frightened. She poked her head around to see the faces before she ducked behind him again as his enormous frame covered her tiny one.

"You figured out his ability and are using it against him!" Matt said in awe.

"Stop gushing like a teenager Parkman it's unattractive." Noah hated this new turn of events. Renee was supposed to neutralize Sylar and wipe Claire's memories of her kidnapping. Of this version of Sylar she believes is here to protect her and not serve his own agenda.

Sandra broke free from Peter went to stand by Sylar to let Noah know that she supported her daughter's decision to trust the reformed serial killer. She heard his voice in her head that instructed her to get behind him and didn't need to be told twice.

"What do you think you're trying to do here?" Sylar was in no mood for games or misguided justifications. He knew want they were trying to do. Why couldn't they see it wouldn't help her but makes things worse?

"What does it look like?" Peter responded sarcastically. "Wipe Claire's memories of everything that happened these past two months."

"And what are you planning to do about the somatization disorder?" Sylar countered to the clueless men before him. "Can your thug here promise that by wiping her memories in her brain that her body will follow?"

"I don't know," Renee answered honestly, "What do you mean by somatization disorder?"

"I'm sure Bennet was forthcoming with his agenda on this," Sylar said with menace. "Did he tell you that big bad Sylar was taking advantage of his traumatized daughter?" He rolled his eyes when the Haitian confirmed it. "Did he also tell you that her body responds to touch? That sometimes when you touch her it can also trigger a memory. Can you honestly guarantee by wiping her memory that neutralize her body's response when you touch her? Or will be spend forever not understanding why she flinches whenever you touch her? Why she has a panic attack when she smells jasmine?" _Or that fact she's two months pregnant and can't remember having sex._

"Oh shit," Peter mumbled under his breath.

When the Haitian stood silently before him with his head lowered his shame Sylar had his answer. "I thought so. This here is my fault," Sylar confessed. "I was too blinded by rage to kill Danko for what he did to her that I jumped the gun so to speak. Claire didn't have time to talk about going back to this godforsaken city with her therapist. It's my fault she's regressed back to the state _I_ found her in." He inhaled to try and control the monster within who wanted to lash out at these idiots who tried to ruin her progress. "You didn't get to see the Claire that Matt saw when I took him away from _your _abusive treatment of him. But don't you dare think I'm going to let you mind fuck with her brain and leave her confused to why the simple human touch makes her want to vomit."

"Don't let him hurt me," Claire pleaded as she tightened her hold on Sylar. Her arms were shaking from the grip she had on him. _Sweetheart, I need to breathe._ His voice was gentle and she found her arms complying with his request.

He inhaled deeply when he felt her grip loosen. "Thank you," he mumbled to her. The electricity disappeared as he closed his fists. He stood tall in front of Renee, his hands balled into fists as his gaze softened. "I know about your brother back when I believed I was Nathan. He was a horrible man who did horrible things to people. He took away their freedom of choice through his dictatorship." Sylar paused briefly to let the Haitian process the information. "Did you even ask her if she wanted this? Or have you become your brother by taking away her choice? Consequences be damned."

Renee looked away and the shame consumed him more. He came here to do a favor for his old partner. When Noah called him, it seemed like the right thing to do. Now, he wished he never stepped foot in this place.

"Thought so." Sylar glared at Noah before he put his hands on Claire's arms to loosen her death grip hold on him. He knelt down to her level. "I am going to put my left hand under your chin and add slight pressure so I can look at those green orbs of yours." He did just as he told her and when he had her attention he continued. "You have a choice Claire. The Haitian can wipe your memory of what had happened to you. You can wake up never knowing what had happened to you. I can't promise that it will fix it. We don't know if your body will still react when someone touches you or you smell the forbidden smells that triggered the trauma. He can only take the memories of everything."

"Even us?" she whispered.

"Yes, even that," Sylar told her honestly. "If this is something you want, I will support you and I will still take care of your _rat_ problem."

"But I won't remember the good things that came from it. I won't remember my strength or Ava—."

"That might be a reason to do it—ouch!" He rubbed the arm she had assaulted, "Why the hell did I ever teach you how to hit properly when you only use it on me?"

_"Because you love me and will do anything for me."_

_"I do. I would."_

Claire looked at Sylar before her eyes scanned the room to see June, her mother, and Matt standing protectively at her side while her father, grandmother, Peter, and Renee stood across from them. Her eyes landed on her father who sent a silent plea with his eyes to let the Haitian do this. She thought about how Sylar called him her tyrant. It was a harsh word that was almost right. Her father did unorthodox things all in the name of her safety. All of them backfired horribly. Her gaze went back to her boogieman. Her father wanted to take away the bad and steal something precious from her. The man before her wanted to help her get through the bad; who had been so supportive since they met again at Coyote Sands. He was willing to sacrifice his happiness for her well being. _This is what love is, you give without expecting anything in return._ Claire closed her eyes as the memories washed over her. What she found with every bad memory, three good ones replaced it. Sylar teaching her self defense, meeting Jen Keller and all the progress she made in therapy, things she learned about herself, Ava, Jake, June and Sylar—most importantly Sylar. If the Haitian took her memories she would loose that part of her. She would never know what a good friend Matt Parkman had become, the strength she never knew she possessed, and the man behind the monster. "No," Claire said with absolution. "I will not give up the good to take away the bad. I'm stronger than that." She looked at her father and gave a Sylar like grin. "Besides how would you explain away the baby Grandpa?"

**"THE WHAT!"** Noah screamed.

"I'm—we're pregnant," Claire said more out of spite than actually making a decision. Could she really raise him or her with Sylar? Would her determination to love this baby last—that she would not blame the baby for the sperm donor's mistakes?

"You hear that Bean," Sylar whispered to her small bump, "you're officially here. Now mean old Grandpa Bennet is going to tell you all about how Papa is the devil. Just remember, Papa's a _reformed_ devil." He gave Claire a shit eating grin as she giggled. "Incase you don't have Papa's smarts, reformed means I used to—owe!" He rubbed the back of his head. "Damn it woman, I was talking to the bean!"

The sound of someone hitting the floor drew the couple away from their moment to see Noah on the ground with Matt standing over him. "You will not hurt my friend."

Claire laughed before she looked at Sylar. She asked the important question in her mind as she needed to know if he still wanted this. "_You sure you are up for this? The bean isn't yours. What if you decide one day that—."_

_"Family is more than biology."_ He put his hand on her stomach. _"This is my child and God help anyone who tries to take my bean from me."_ Sylar lean over and kissed the small bump.

"I cannot be apart of this," Renee declared. "I hope you can forgive me. I never meant any harm." Renee bowed his head before he took his leave of the place.

Noah Bennet was fuming at the news of his grandchild. That monster had taken advantage of his little girl when she was vulnerable. Now, she was pregnant with the devil's spawn. He had to fix this. He had to save his little girl from being permanently attached to that demon. He left quickly towards the kitchen to think of how he could save Claire from having Sylar's offspring. "Mohinder, I need to ask you something."

Sylar grabbed Claire's hand and pulled her towards their room. When the door closed he leaned over and kissed her.

"Mmm," Claire responded after the kiss. She looked at him through hooded eyes, "That was…"

"Amazing." He finished. He couldn't stop smiling as he leaned down to kiss her again. "You have no idea how much of a turn on it was to see you take down the Haitian and then with your father…" He trailed off and kissed her again. He groaned when she pulled her head away. "What's wrong?"

"Sylar, about the baby—."

When she looked away and bit her lower lip he knew what she was going to say. "You didn't mean it did you?" He pulled away from her.

"I'm not sure," she confessed as she tried to reach out to him but he just moved further away. "I just wanted him to stop."

"So you threw our baby under the preverbal bus?" His eyes narrowed at her when they heard knocked on the door. "Go away."

"Gabriel we need to talk." June said through the door.

"Not now," he mumbled as he glared at Claire. They needed to talk about this, especially since she announced her pregnancy without knowing that she wanted to keep the baby. June continued to knock. "I said not now!" he yelled at the door.

"She's not going to do away," Claire told him as she pushed him towards the door to deal with his grandmother.

"What?" he asked as he opened the door and spat out the first thing that came into his mind. "Can't you see that I'm trying to have _relations_ with the mother of my child!"

"Watch your tone young man," June scolded. "Whether you like it your not, I am your grandmother and you have a lot of explaining to do!"

"Later—."

"No, now," June said, "Starting with the fact your wife's parents are telling me that you're not married. Her father is insisting that you are a monster and—and—."

"Talk to her," Claire said softly to Sylar. "She's your grandmother Sylar. I know how much family means to you. She made a mistake. But haven't we all?"

"But Claire," Sylar whispered, "Her mistake shattered my entire existence."

"Yours did the same for me," Claire said as Sylar pulled away. "And I'm sorry, I know you hate it when I throw your past in your face but Sylar, you're making a mistake. You loved her so much and I know you still do. You're her Gabriel." She stood on her toes so she could cradle his face her in hands. "She loves you too. I don't want you to regret these wasted moments when she's no longer here."

He recoiled from her touch. "Fine, why the hell not!" he told her, "Anything to get away from you and this twisted game you seem to enjoy playing with me." He walked to the door and called over his shoulder, "We are not down discussing this."

"I know," she told his retreating form. She had an awful feeling that her careless announcement would push him over the edge. He needed to forgive June and let go of his anger. Especially if he never wants to speak to her again after what she just did with announcing a baby she didn't know she wanted. He would at least have his grandmother in his life if he decided he was tired to being jerk around my her hormones and indecisiveness. _What have I done?_ Claire heard footsteps behind her. "Take the time to talk to Nonna, we can finish our discussion—" she said as she turned around. "What are you doing here?" She asked the man who wasn't her boyfriend—husband, whatever they were. It wasn't like she was looking forward to having the argument with Sylar but she wasn't excepting this person either.

"I'm going to fix this."

"What are you talking about? What needs to be fixed?" Claire tried to scream for help but the assailant covered her mouth before he tried to jab a knife into her abdomen. Claire moved and it hit her side, but didn't hit her uterus.

"I'm sorry," he told her as he managed to hit her in the stomach this time, "but it's for the best." He twisted the knife as he pulled it out to attack her again. Claire continued to fight for her life against this unlikely foe.

* * *

Sylar followed June back into the living room as his eyes scanned the room. _Something isn't right._ He wept the room again trying to find what was out of place. His ears zoned in on Claire's heartbeats. He didn't need to count the heartbeats to know it was erratic.

"What's wrong?" Matt asked when he noticed the distressed look on his face.

"Claire," he said as he turned back around. Sylar may be pissed off at her but her safety was still his top priority.

Matt started to follow when everyone heard her scream for help—for Sylar. Sylar, Matt, and Peter raced towards the room. Matt told Sandra and June to stay back. Neither of them listened. When Matt reached the room he stopped dead in his tracks. Sylar was almost to Claire, who had a knife lodged in her abdomen. "Oh my God!"

Peter pushed Matt out of the way and went to Claire. He grabbed the knife and pulled it from her. He watched as her body started to heal. "The baby?" Peter frantically asked Sylar. "Is the baby okay?" Peter may not be happy with who the father is, but he didn't want this to happen to his great niece or nephew. Even if he thought, _I'm too young to be a great uncle._

"Who did this to you?" Sylar wanted to know who had a death wish.

"I'm so sorry," Claire said through her tears, "I tried. I wasn't strong enough."

"Who did this to you?" Sylar repeated. He wanted to know the name of the person who would not live to see morning.

"Is the baby okay?" Her hands went to her abdomen as she wondered if the small life was still inside of her was living and breathing. The internal struggle of whether or not she wanted the baby ended the moment she was fighting for its life. Now she didn't know if there was a baby left to fight for.

"Who did this to you?" Sylar repeated. His patience ran it course as he grabbed the knife from Peter.

"Sylar we need to find out if the baby—."

"Like you actually give a shit if my child survived this!" Sylar screamed at Peter as he took the weapon away. The truth was he was terrified to listen for a heartbeat. If the baby was dead, he would have failed Claire again. He also didn't think he could get over her relief either. Not when she gave him the moon and then took it back in the very next moment.

"Claire are you okay?" Noah said as he went into the room.

"Where the hell were you?" Matt asked as he kept his eyes on Sylar who looked surprised before his face when stone cold.

"You bastard." Within seconds, Sylar went from the floor by Claire to standing in front of Noah. "You will pay for this." He lodged the knife into Noah's abdomen. "How does it feel to have someone jam a knife into your stomach!"

"Get away from him!" Peter yelled as he came to Noah's aid.

"The only difference is I am doing it to you!" Sylar said as he twisted the knife. "Did you ever think that maybe your daughter has been through enough! Kidnapped. Tortured. That wasn't enough so you had to butcher her too!"

The room went silent with Sylar's statement. Peter stopped trying to pull Sylar off of Noah. "What?"

"He's lying," Noah said through the pain of the attack. He only hoped Claire would see what a monster Sylar was and leave him.

"The knife doesn't lie," Sylar told him as he pulled it out and forced it back in. "Or did you forget that I have the ability to know the history of any object by touching it?"

"I knew I shouldn't have left it in," Noah mumbled as he felt the knife leave his body. Sylar let him go and he dropped to the floor. Through the haze he could see that monster touching his daughter. "Leave her alone you murderous bastard!"

"Sandra," Sylar said as the older woman came to her. He gently put Claire in her arms and went back to his prey. "Don't you dare touch him!" He yelled at his grandmother.

"I can't let you kill him," June said as he tried to reach for him. Before she could touch him she felt her body fly away from him and land in Matt's arms.

"Do not touch him." Sylar said. He wasn't going to let June expose her ability. Not to save this man's life. "I'm only doing this because of Claire. But as soon as you are healed, you will be escorted from the premises, not to return again." Never taking his eyes off of Noah he held his hand out for Peter. "Take the telekinesis. With Noah's fat ass you and Matt might need the extra support when taking out the garage."

"No!" Claire screamed, "With his contacts, it's better to keep him tied up then to let him go loose."

Sylar gave her an awestruck look. "You know, I'm furious as hell with you right now—but I think I just fell in love with you all over again." He winked when she smiled and turned his attention to Matt and Peter. "What she said." He tilted his head in Claire's direction as he held his hand out to Peter.

"Understood," Matt said as he waited to see what Sylar would do.

June struggled against Matt's grip as she watched Peter touch her grandson for a second. Sylar then put his hands over Noah's abdomen. Within a few seconds his hands were glowing like hers when she had healed Ava. It was the third ability she had witnessed just today. She didn't think it was possible for someone to have more than one ability. _How many abilities does my Gabriel have?" _

Sandra sat there amazed as Sylar healed the man who attacked their Claire. She held her sobbing daughter tighter as the injuries left Noah's body and appeared on Sylar. He gasped as he struggled with his new injuries. Apparently Sylar didn't know how deeply he injured the man. June went to her grandson as Matt and Peter removed Noah from the room.

Claire broke free from her mother and crawled over to Sylar. She was crying hysterically as she pushed his intestines into his body, waiting for the healing ability to take over. "Why isn't he healing?"

"I told you dear," June whispered, "The more extensive the injury the more time to heal."

"But he can heal!" Claire cried out, "He should be healed now!"

"Jesus Claire," Sylar groaned as he opened his eyes, "Aren't you a little old for hysterics? You knew I'd be alright."

Claire looked down at her hands that were over his healed skin before she looked at his face. "You're okay?"

"Are you?"

"I don't know," she said through her tears, "The bean?"

Sylar closed his eyes. She had to ask the one question that he didn't want to know the answer too. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have left you alone after you dropped that bomb on Noah. I shouldn't have been fighting with you." He felt the tears form in his eyes. "I should have known he'd do something stupid in the name of protecting you."

"The bean Sylar," Claire said as his stalling had gotten on her nerves, "Is the bean okay?"


	20. Aftermath

**Chapter 20 Aftermath**

His silence was killing her. When her own father attacked the baby in a warped semblance of protection, thinking he was saving her from having Sylar's baby—_if only it was his baby_ she thought—Claire found herself in a struggle for the baby's survival. The maternal need to protect the baby she had earlier confessed to not wanting to have—but in all honestly; she wasn't sure what she wanted—until the moment that small life was threatened. She felt the attachment to it—to the bean as Sylar so fondly called it. And she fought like hell for its survival; because she could see it, an unconventional family of three. _Their_ family—hopefully he'd still want to be with her after the emotional turmoil she had put him through—was it only _minutes_ ago that they were fighting over the baby? "Sylar." She begged for him to get out of his head and focus on her. She crawled into his lap and grabbed his face with her hands. With minimal pressure he pulled his face to look at her.

Her touch startled him from his thoughts and he gave into her request to look at her. When milk chocolate met pleading green eyes, he knew what she wanted from him as his hands traveled down to her abdomen of their own accord.

"The baby Sylar."

Sylar closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. As he exhaled he counted the remaining heartbeats in the room as he hoped to find that rapid beat beneath his fingers. When he had his answer he opened his eyes and with a grieved expression on his face. He fought the tears as he whispered, "I am sorry—."

"NO!" she screamed out as she heard her mother crying as well.

"The baby is fine." He finished. He knew she didn't want the baby and her father had unknowingly failed to grant his daughter her wish; to abort the baby. It killed him to know that this small child wasn't wanted—that its mother saw it as a punishment. This baby was just like him—unwanted and easily discarded.

"Oh thank God!" Claire exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad the bean is okay."

Sylar hesitated before he wrapped his arms around her. _This has to be a trick._ Claire's sudden changes were giving him a severe case of whiplash as he found himself struggling to keep up with her hormonal decisions. _Is she playing this up because her mother and his grandmother were here looking gratefully that their grandchild was alive?_ He tightened his hold before he whispered, "What am I missing? I thought you—."

"I did," she told him as she griped him tighter when he tried to pull away from her. "But when Noah came after me with that knife, all I could think about was protecting this fragile life." She kissed his neck beneath his ear before she asked softly, "Are you still up for it?"

"What?" He was too afraid to hope she wanted him to be apart of their life. After all that is what their monumental fight was all about, his influence on the child's life.

Claire leaned back to look at him. She wanted to see his expression when she asked, "You, me, and baby make three?"

He gave her a big goofy grin. "Oh hell yeah!" He closed the distance between them and kissed her. Their kiss quickly escalated into a heavy make out. They both were so wrapped up in their own world; they did not hear Sandra asking them to stop.

Sandra bolted when their hands started to remove each other shirts. "That was unpleasant," she said as she leaned against the now closed door, wishing away the image of her almost topless child with her boyfriend.

"At least we know he cannot get her pregnant again," June said next to her, slightly amused with their display of affection. It made her feel less guilty to see her grandson so happy. He deserved some happiness after everything he was subjected to growing up. June suppressed a hearty chuckle at Sandra's pale expression._ Newlyweds._

"How can you find this assuming?"

"They are young and in love," June simply responded, "by definition that means excessive use of _affections_. Don't you remember being like that?"

"I was never going to have sex with Noah while my mother and his grandmother watching!"

June shrugged. "True. But your father didn't try to cut your baby from your body either."

"I'm going to kill him for that."

"Let them be," June advised, even though she was sure a nuclear bomb couldn't stop them from what they were no doubt doing in there. "They are young, hormonal, and had a scare. They are not only celebrating life, but a new life that was almost taken from them."

Sandra looked at the door again and heard Claire squeal and then giggle. "I think it's time to have a chat with my ex-husband."

"Sylar," Claire giggled, "Stop!" The tone of her voice implied the opposite.

"Let's" June said as she quickly retreated from the door. She would have to have a talk with her grandson later about all of his abilities, his so called marriage, and the proper time to have intercourse with his love. Because as much as she tried to project indifference, their behavior affected her just like it did Sandra.

* * *

Peter had finished tying Noah to a chair in the same room Noah had held Matt in weeks ago.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" Noah asked Matt.

"No," he responded quickly. He could tell that the company man didn't believe him. "Why would I be happy about the emotional damage you just inflicted on your already fragile daughter? Did you even think about Claire!"

"She is all I ever think about!" Noah snapped back at him. "I was saving her from having a baby with that monster!"

Matt was about to punch Noah when Peter beat him to it.

"The only monster here is you," Peter said in complete disgust. "You tried to maim your only daughter and kill your grandchild you selfish bastard!" He looked at Matt. "Let's go check on Claire before I do something I'm_ suppose_ to regret later." Peter and Matt walked out of the room as the ladies started to move away from Claire's room.

"How's Claire?" Matt asked and immediately knew from the expression on their faces what was going on behind that door. He quickly put up a mental barrier so that he would not _overhear_ anything. A shiver ran down his spine at the memories of walking in on them in North Carolina.

"Both baby and mother are fine." Sandra beamed with pride as she silently hoped the moaning and/or giggling of anyone's name wouldn't escape the two lovers in the room.

"I'm just going to check on her quickly and then we can get back to finding Danko." Peter said but was met with a resounding _no_ from the people around him. "Why not?"

"Peter dear," June said in her sugary grandmother voice that used to make Sylar do anything she asked, before they knew of their familiar connection. "Claire needs her rest."

"I know," Peter said as he reached out to grab the doorknob, "I will be quick."

June took a hold of his hand before he could reach the doorknob. "She was falling into bed when we left." Matt had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. "Let her rest. You can talk to her later, after she has had a chance to rest."

"I just want to see that she's okay with my own two—."

"Are you insinuating that her mother and I are liars?"

"No ma'am."

"Then escort me to the kitchen and we can have a chat as you prepare me a cup of tea."'

"Yes ma'am," Peter said as he walked her towards the kitchen.

When they were far enough away Matt asked a question he already knew the answer to. "They're having sex aren't they?" Sandra's look asked him how he knew. "Your facial expression combined with June's choice of words to keep Peter from going into the room."

"Clothing was coming off while we were exiting!" Sandra told him in a hushed tone, still horrified at her daughter's actions. "Could they at least practice some—some—urg!" she let out when she could not find the words to finish her sentence.

"That happened to me three times," Matt said sympathetically. "I've walked in on them about to have sex and having sex. Trust me, it's not pretty. She gets embarrassed and he can't stop laughing at_ my_ embarrassment before he kindly tells me to get out — like I need to be told to leave."

Sandra held up a hand. "Too much information." She followed him towards the kitchen. "They really have no concept of people in the room when—."

"They're going at it like rabbits?" Matt shook his head as he verbalized the no as well.

"No wonder she's pregnant," Sandra muttered under her breath, "They are like horny teenagers at prom."

Matt let out a hearty chuckle as they walked into the kitchen to join Peter and June.

* * *

Sylar and Claire laid on the bedroom floor; drenched in sweat and limbs tangled together. Heavy sounds of their breathing were the only sound that could be heard, outside of the pounding of their rapidly beating hearts.

"We need to," she said in between ragged deep breaths, "fight more often—because make up sex is—wow."

Sylar turned his head towards her and his confusion could be seen clearly on his face. "We were fighting?"

It was Claire's turn to be confused as her brows creased. "Don't you remember earlier when you stomped out of here?"

The man with the ability to remember everything since he took the ability from that waitress in Texas drew a blank. "I don't remember anything that had happened before you told me I was going to be a father. Everything is just a blank."

"Oh Lord," Claire groaned as she pulled away from him. "If that's the 'I'm happy I'm going to be a daddy sex' then I'm going to be eternally pregnant because," she let out a startled noise when he pulled her closer. She got momentarily lost in his eyes before her mouth opened to speak again. "I want to do _that_ again." She leaned up to kiss him as he pulled away. "What's wrong? Am I too fat?"

"Did I hurt the bean?" He looked down at the small bump in a complete panic. He tried to listen for any irregular heartbeats from the baby that would show any signs of distress. "I was careless and I remember you saying something about fucking away your ability to walk—."

"Bean's fine," Claire interrupted him. "Pregnant women can have sex—might want to ease up on the rough sex; even with my ability I'd rather not risk it."

"Are we really going to do this?" He echoed his previous question from earlier.

"If you're not tired of us already."

"Never," he said immediately as he gave her a huge grin as if he just won the lottery. This child would never know what is would feel like to not be wanted—not along as Sylar was breathing.

She smiled before she leaned into his embrace. "How is this going to work?" She looked up at him and hoped he had the answer. "People are going to think you took advantage of me."

"Let them," Sylar told her in a tone of indifference as he leaned down to kiss the crown of her head. "His parents—."

"His? It's a boy now is it?"

"Yes, because my poor heart cannot handle all those male suitors that would come with having a little girl with her mother's looks."

"You know you can't make the baby be a boy because you want it to be a boy. He could be a she."

"Then her papa is going to have numerous acute myocardial infarctions," Sylar told her seriously, "Unless she's gay, then I will support the hell out of her—." He paused to process this thought and concluded it didn't matter is she was straight, bisexual, or gay the answer would always be the same. "She's going to give me numerous acute myocardial infarctions no matter her preferences in a partner. Maybe she could be a nun." He gave Claire a very serious expression before he asked, "Do we have to become Catholic for her to be a nun or could I just sign her up when she's an eighteen year old heathen?"

Claire laughed as she leaned in to kiss him. She was about to pull away when he pulled her back in. This kiss made her feel as light as a feather. When the kiss ended, she pulled and away and leaned back into the soft bed. Her head shot up as she took in their new position on the bed. "Did you?"

"I thought you'd like the soft mattress on your back."

"Thanks." She kissed him again and felt his body shift above her. He broke away and left a trail of butterfly kisses from her mouth to that spot behind her ear that could make her moan or purr depending on her mood. When her soft moan reached his eyes he smiled against her skin as she pulled away from him right before his lips found hers again. "Wait—what do we put on the birth certification? We don't really know who the biological father is and unknown would make the baby seem like it was a careless mistake."

"That's easy." He brushed the hair from her face. "Mother, Claire Bennet. Although I am quite fond to the last name Gray."

"Are you proposing to me Mr. Gray?" she asked coyly.

He lifted her left hand kissed her ring finger above her engagement ring. "You are already wearing my ring Ms. Bennet. I'm just waiting for my yes."

"Well I'm waiting on that particular question to be asked to me. That way I can say yes, no, or maybe too."

The sultry look she have him made him hard on the spot. For someone so inexperienced with sex, she knew what buttons to push to turn him on. "Marry me."

Claire gave him a brazen smile. "Let me think about it and get back to you."

"Okay," Sylar told her as he leaned down. "Father, Gabriel Gray," he whispered before he kissed her.

His statement had stolen the breath from her body before his lips even made contact with hers. Her hands slid up his arms as one got lost in his hair and the other rested on his shoulder blade.

Sylar slowly broke away from the kiss and whispered, "Marry me."

"It's too soon."

"Says who?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know," she responded with frustration, "The people who say this is a whirlwind romance—."

"No, whirlwinds lose their strength," he corrected her; "We are not temporary." He kissed her nose before he whispered, "Marry me."

"This is crazy—we have only been dating for weeks. _Weeks_ Sylar, not years or even months, but weeks."

"I've been chasing after you since I met you," he told her, "It just took me a while to realize I was doing it all wrong." He saw her cringe and he second guessed himself for telling her that—even with their honesty policy. "Marry me."

"It's too fast."

"That's what engagements are for, we can be betrothed as we plan the life we've been living," Sylar countered. He took a deep breath as he tried to formulate a different approach. "I love you. I love our child." He smiled when Claire's face lit up when he said our child. "I know I don't deserve you or my son."

"The bean can still be a girl and you know I don't like anyone putting down the man I'm crazy about either."

"_He_ is going to be my first born son," Sylar corrected her as he disregarded the second half of her sentence. "Marry me. You, me, and baby make three. I know we don't have to be married to be a family, but it physically hurts to call you my girlfriend because I want to call you my wife because that is who you are to me."

Her face softened as she experiences the same pain he had described. Their time together playing house, she had become comfortable with addressing him her husband. It's who he became to her. She couldn't decide if boyfriend seemed more like a slap in the face, ten steps backwards in their relationship, or both to the man her hearts still holds to as her husband. "Sylar."

"Marry me and I will do everything in my power to make you not regret saying yes. Marry me. Spend forever with me."

_Forever._ It could be a long time to spend with someone, especially if it was the wrong someone or waiting for the right time. She looked into his deep milk chocolate orbs and found in them what she had seen for months now—home. "Yes."

A huge grin broken out on his face. "Yes?" He wasn't sure if he heard her correctly or if his heart and head were playing a cruel trick on him.

She smiled at him and nodded as she verbalized her answer to him once again. Screw the world that said they weren't dating that long or that there were an impractical pair. Sylar and Claire was never a conventional couple to begin with so why go with the grain now? She pulled off her rings and gave them to Sylar. He slid them both back on her fingers. He had done this months back when he had first purchased it. It felt like wishful thinking back then as he slid the rings onto her finger. It was just for show. But this time it was different. This time, it sealed their engagement._ Maybe dreams do come true._

"Are you ready for another round of love making because Papa's feeling rather frisky."

Claire laughed so hard she snorted. "You are such a dork."

Sylar made a face. _Says the girl who just snorted._ "I do not like that term," he informed her before he leaned into kiss her. "But," he whispered before he kissed her, "As long as I'm yours and you're mine, you can call me anything your heart desires." He sealed his statement with a kiss.

"I—can—live—with—that—" she said in between kisses. She let out a startled noise as they rolled over. She laughed when they rolled off the bed and onto the floor. Claire wasn't surprised that he made sure that he took the brunt of the fall. Laughter escaped her lips when Sylar had lost no momentum in the fall and rolled them over so he was back on top.

"You know I'm starting to become a big fan of this floor." He captured her lips with his before he moved back to that pressure point on her neck. He smiled when he heard her moan and rolled over, changing their positions again.

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Peter asked as he gaze went to the hallway.

Matt tried to keep his face neutral after hearing the thud followed by a giggle._ Please say they fell off the bed and not broke it._ "I didn't hear anything." He moved quickly to turn on the television to drown the noise from the bedroom out. "The game's on."

"I don't really like to watch sports." His eyes were fixated on Claire's door when he heard another sound. _Was that a moan?_ When he realized what the sounds were his facial expression matched his desire to vomit. "Are they—?"

"Game?" Matt interrupted.

"Sure." Peter sat down and tried not to think about the dots he'd just connected. He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. He could feel Matt's eyes on him. "I acknowledge the fact that she's pregnant with his child which means they have had sex. But—."

"It doesn't mean we want to hear it."

"Exactly!" Peter turned his attention to the television. "What are we watching?"

"No clue," Matt told him honestly. He grabbed the clicker and flipped through the stations. They settled on reruns of _Seinfeld_.

After watching three episodes, Peter stated "He's not he same person he was three years ago."

"No, he's not."

"Doesn't mean I forgive him or that I'm okay with their relationship—especially their _sexual_ relationship. She might not be ready for it but feels obligated to be with him because he—."

"Trust me when I say this, Claire wasn't the one who was pressured."

"She was the instigator?" Peter asked in disbelief.

"Every step of the way."

After a few minutes of listened to Matt's thoughts, he realized he was telling the truth. "Doesn't mean I like it!"

"I know," Matt agreed with him. He gave him a sideways glance to gauge his expression. "But it's her life and her decisions to make. This relationship could end horribly."

"Could? Try it will—this is _Sylar_ we're talking about."

Matt glared at the younger Petrelli and disregarded his statement. "But he could be that person she's meant to be with. Either way, it is _her_ decision to make."

"I still don't like it, but I get it." Peter told Matt. "In my younger years I dated someone my family didn't approve of. I loved her and I broke up with her because I was tired of being at war with my family. It will be one of my biggest regrets, not knowing where that could have gone."

"Years later you rebelled anyways."

"Yes," Peter agreed. "I ran into her a few years ago. She's happily married with 2.5 kids—."

"Point five?" Matt asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She's pregnant so I'm counting it as a half of kid until it's born," Peter explained. "She met him shortly after we broke up. She talked about him being her other half. She thanked me for breaking up with her." Matt's brown creased with confusion so Peter continued. "She was at that coffee shop to hide from the world. She wouldn't have been there if we were still together."

"Sounds like fate."

"That's what she said," Peter looked at the hallway where Claire or Sylar hadn't appeared yet. _I really hope Sylar is like me and there is someone better waiting for her—someone who has the will power to deal with her crazy ex and the baby's father._ Peter knew that Noah was wrong. You don't alienate Claire by trying to take the baby away from her. You support her so she knows she has support when she wants to leave Sylar someday. Matt's snort interrupted his thoughts. "What?"

"You and Sylar are so much alike when it comes to Claire." Matt shared his observation with the other man. "You're both waiting for her wake up and realize there is someone better for her and leave him." Matt tried to keep the laughter inside when he looked at Peter's shocked facial expression. "So_ if_ that day comes, you don't have to worry about Claire's ex, because he knows he doesn't deserve her."

"If that is true, then why would he be with her on that level?"

Matt sighed, knowing Sylar would kick his ass for sharing this but he felt it might be for the greater good in building bridges between Sylar and Peter. "Because he loves her and can't deny her anything. And what she wants is him." Matt was positive that she needed Sylar, but knew it was too much to lay on the younger Petrelli at this moment of time._ Baby steps._

Peter wasn't sure what to make of his new information except that Sylar seemed to be a masochist since he is willingly putting himself into a relationship that will end badly because the woman he loves wants him. If it wasn't Sylar, he'd find a bit of nobility in his actions—as well as a whole lot of stupidity. Peter really didn't want to like Sylar because of his sins. But right now he trusted Sylar more than he will ever trust Noah Bennet again. _This is just one big fucking mess._

"You can say that again," Matt said in response to Peter's thought.

* * *

_Morning_

Peter walked out of his old room and was relieved to see the door open to Claire's room. It meant they were up or asleep and decently dressed. He stopped momentarily at an empty room he continued towards the living room and came upon a familiar theme of_ The Twilight Zone._ For a brief moment the cuddling couple shifted into his niece and brother sitting on opposite ends of the couch. When Claire laughed at something Sylar whispered in her ear, the picture returned to reality. It made the pain of his mother and Noah's deception hurt all over gain. It was never Nathan's obsession with this television show. It was a piece of Sylar coming through his prison they forced Matt to put him in and make sure he stayed in._ I never thanked Matt for ending that charade._

Sylar heard Peter coming up behind him. He leaned down and kissed Claire briefly. "I have to go now," he leaned down and kissed the baby bump. "Papa has to go to work because there is a rat that needs to be exterminated. Uncle Matt is going to come along for the ride."

"Don't you mean Uncle Peter?" Peter asked as he tried to not sound as offended as he was that Sylar was trading him in for Matt.

"No," Sylar said as he looked at the other man. "I figured you'd like to stay behind with Claire." He held out his hand. "Choose your poison."

Peter saw the olive branch Sylar had extended to him in trusting Claire's well being while they were away. It was huge, considering the last time he was with Claire they took an unauthorized field trip. Instead of grabbing the other man's hand, Peter shook his head. "If Claire won't be offended, I'd rather not break up the partnership. We've developed a groove that works for us." He paused before he added. "Not that I don't appreciate you trusting me to be here alone with Claire or what that means. I just really want to get that bastard."

Sylar looked at Claire for his cue. When she nodded he responded with an okay before he went to find Matt.

Peter sat down next to Claire and looked at the television. He couldn't understand why they loved this show as much as they did.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," he responded immediately as he kept his attention on the screen.

"But you're disappointed in me."

"It's _Sylar_, Claire," Peter explained as he turned towards her, "Sylar!"

"I know," she whispered back to him, "but you need to know something." When she was sure she had his complete attention she said, "I am not going to apologize for how I feel about him."

"But it's **_Sylar_**."

"He's different," Claire defended her love to her uncle. "He's not the same man we knew from back then. I know both sides of him and he knows my sides. It's why he fought his attraction for me."

Peter snorted as he rolled his eyes, "Before he gave in."

Claire narrowed her eyes at her uncle as her frustration for him could be heard in her tone. "Well I made it difficult for him to continue to fight it. I love him Peter and he loves me."

"But are you happy?"

"I'm happier than I thought I could ever be in my life, before or after I was taken."

"So he's your hero now." Peter couldn't keep the bitterness from his tone. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that he'd be her hero forever, but he sure in the hell didn't think he'd lose his title to Sylar.

Claire sighed as she looked at Peter. "It's not like that. He's not trying to fix me or save me. Yes, he's helping me put the pieces back together. But he found me a therapist to work through everything. Sylar's not looking to be my hero. He wants me to find my inner hero."

Peter exhaled slowly before he smirked. "If I didn't know this guy you were talking about is Sylar, I would have liked him already."

Claire gave him a look that told him she was not amused by his attempt at humor. "It won't kill you to get to know this Sylar."

"Actually, there's a high probability that will happen," he teased, "This is _Sylar_ we are talking about."

"Shut up!" She laughed as she hit his shoulder, "And for being an ass, I won't show you something _really_ cool!"

"Ouch!" Peter rubbed his shoulder. "Sylar teaching you how to hit was only funny when you were hitting him!" Claire gave him a cat-ate-the-canary grin in response. Peter laughed at her smile as his brain processed the rest of her statement, "Wait, what cool thing?"

"I don't know," Claire said, "You're being a jerk to my boyfriend."

"I'm being civil," Peter corrected, "If you want me to be a jerk; that could be arranged."

"Shut up!" she hit him playfully again before she reached over to grab a picture on the coffee table and handed it to Peter. "It's the baby. He or she is growing perfectly and there was no injury or damage from the attack." Claire paused as she tried to push the memories of last night away. After they had been intimate again Sylar dressed them quickly and took them to the ER. They both needed the medical reassurance that everything was fine and they both cursed their hormones for not doing it sooner. "The doctor on call was so nice. So was Sylar as I was freaking out that the baby could have been injured and my ability didn't heal it. The doctor gave us both a copy of the sonogram." Her smile grew at the memory. "Sylar surprised me. I've seen his happy smile before, but the expression on his face when the rapid heart beat and tiny bean-like person on the screen. It was just all so magical."

Peter looked at the tiny figure in the sonogram. It made it all the more real. His niece was having a baby with his nemesis. He hated Sylar, but he sure in the hell wasn't going to make the same mistake his family did to him. He was not going to alienate Claire. He was going to support her through this pregnancy so when she woke up from this delusional world she was in, he'd be there to help her and the baby escape. "The baby is beautiful."

"I know," Claire said with a smile as she rested her head on Peter's shoulder. "Sylar wants it to be a boy because he said a baby girl with my looks is a dangerous combination."

"He's right."

"And if she is a girl, he's already making plans to sign her up to be a nun." Claire laughed at it. "He talks like you can do it as easily as you'd sign your child up for Girl Scouts."

"Let him know that if he needs help in that department that I will drive them to the nunnery."

_Nunnery? Is that even a word?_ Claire shook her head and wished for a girl, since the stupid male gene seemed to run on both sides of the baby's family tree. Her smile faltered when she realized that this baby won't share any of Sylar's DNA. _How can he love a baby that would never truly belong to him in every way a child could belong to a parent? One that had such a violent beginning?_

Peter was lost in his thoughts as he looked at the picture of his great niece or nephew when something clicked in his mind. This baby was too old to be a few weeks old. He shouldn't even be able to see it in a sonogram. Sylar had either raped her and Claire is truly a victim of Stockholm Syndrome or he wasn't giving Sylar enough credit for being a decent man. Either way, he was determined to find out when Claire's thoughts invaded his mind. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around Claire. He pulled her close and kissed the top of his head as the nauseous feeling swept over his body. It was that moment his belief in Sylar's morality shifted towards the side of good. He wiped a stray tear before it could fall as he looked at Claire's sullen expression in the television's reflective surface. When she felt his eyes on her she smiled. Peter hoped that the day would come when Claire would tell him this secret she only shared with Sylar. "You know Claire when I look at your relationship with Sandra, I'm grateful."

"Why do you say that?"

"Biologically you don't share any traits," Peter told her, "but everything else that matters in what it means to be a parent. You struck gold. I don't think she could love you any more, even if you didn't have any of her DNA. So when I see you two together, I know that you were loved more than words."

"Thanks Peter."

Claire's bright smile told him he succeeded in letting her know the DNA comparability does not make a parent, a parent. Sandra Bennet continued to prove that statement correct. Part of him couldn't believe he actually made her more secure in Sylar's commitment to a child that would never be his biologically. The key to getting Claire out of his clutches. But looking at her now, he couldn't do that to her. For some unforeseen reasoning, she needed him. And God help him, but if Claire needed Sylar, than Peter was going to do everything in his power to keep him there with her. Until she didn't want him anymore, that is.

* * *

In his search for Matt, Sylar walked right past June, who sat by herself drinking a cup of tea. "Nipotino, wait!" she called out to him. "We need to talk."

Sylar sighed as he turned towards the older woman. "Now isn't a good time."

"Gabriel—."

"Nonna," he interrupted her. He noticed her smile when he called her grandma. "I'm not mad at you, okay. I just need time and you need to leave. I—I can't have you here right now."

"Why?" she asked. "I don't understand why your wife isn't your wife or those abilities you have. I never knew someone who possessed more than one ability."

Sylar sighed as he took the few steps to sit down next to her. "I've been dreading this conversation because I know you'll hate me after you know the truth about me."_ But not as much as I hate me. Now, I'm going to lose the only family I have left._ He shook his head as his thoughts shifted to Claire and the child she gave him the privilege to call his; his family.

"Gabriel that will never happen," June insisted as she reached to grab hold of his hands.

"We will see," he said sadly as he tried to pull away but she wouldn't release her hold on his hands.

"Gabriel—."

"Please Nonna; this is the third hardest thing I've ever had to do." June nodded as Sylar inhaled. _Let's start with the easiest thing._ "Claire and I aren't married. It was all a hoax. But as of," he paused to look at his watch, "Nine hours and thirty-seven minutes ago we are affianced. I do apologize that I did not ask her father for her hand in marriage but he would rather see me dead than married to Claire. Maybe he's—." Sylar stopped himself as Claire's voice in his head reprimanded him about saying awful things about the man she loves. He shook his head and gave a tiny smile.

"I don't know why you'd lie about that since young people these days live together without marriage," June told him, "But congratulations. She's a lovely girl."

"Thank you," he paused, "We haven't told anyone—."

"They will not hear it from me Gabriel."

"As for my ability," Sylar said with some more hesitation, "I have my father's ability—intuitive aptitude. It is the ability to figure out or know how things work without the training required. It also comes with a horrible—side effect so to speak…" He continued to tell her his history. His time with Virginia and Martin Gray, meeting Dr. Suresh, discovering his ability, stalking his prey—that at one time included Claire; killing specials for their ability because of the hunger to know how it worked. Elle teaching him how to obtain her ability through empathy but only to kill her when he discovered her betrayal—that she and Claire's father had pushed the killer to come out instead of teaching him how to understand through empathy—which would have controlled his hunger. He killed in her a fit of rage of all those countless lives that could have been saved—lives that made him a monster. The three years trapped as Nathan, he shared the struggle of being helpless when Claire was taken as he tried to claw himself back to the surface only to be pushed back down. He shared the PG of the events that lead them to this place emotionally and physically. He confessed how he tried to resist his feelings and attractions towards Claire—her refusal to _let_ him. Sylar hung his head in shame when he told his grandmother how he threatened to kill little Mattie Parkman if Matt did not help him. Just as he told Claire he was only 99.999% sure he wouldn't have followed through on his threat.

He told her everything but the details of Claire's kidnapping and the baby's biological father. They were not his to tell and he would always be very loyal to his Claire. When he finished his confession, June had already let go of his hands and was barely holding back her tears. "I knew you'd hate me. Lo non sono migliore rispetto l'uomo che mi ha dato la vita." _I am no better than the man who gave me life._ He looked away from June. "Lo sono figlio di mio padre nel vero senso della parola."_ I am my father's child in every sense of the word._

June practically shouted at him as she reached for his hands, "No Nipotino!" She clutched tightly to his hands. "You are nothing like that man! You have changed, he never did. He tried to kill you to save himself! He is not worth his salt!" June released one hand and placed it under his chin to get him to look at her. "Mi dispiace tanto che le mie azioni causate a vivere questa vita. Tuo nonno e ti fallito, non il contrario."_ I am so sorry that my actions caused you to live this life. Your grandfather and I failed you; not the other around._ She moved her hand from his chin to his cheek. "You are my grandson and I will always love you Gabriel. Nothing will ever change that. Not your past, not that horrid woman's voice in your head telling you otherwise. You need to hold onto this when she's at full force nipotino. Lo ti amerò sempre, qualunque cosa accada." _I will always love you, no matter what happens._ She pulled him into a hug and wouldn't let him go for a few minutes. She would be lying if she said his confession didn't terrify her beyond words that her grandson was on the path to becoming just like his father. But he didn't. He became a better man than Samson Gray ever could be. Most of all, she blamed herself and her husband for Gabriel's upbringing. If they hadn't disowned Addie, then her little boy would have had a fighting chance against the evil forces that were his father and aunt. June vowed to do whatever she could for this lost man in her arms until her dying breath. She wished he could see the better man he was becoming. He could have lied to her but he confessed everything, believing he would lose her in the end. Underneath is rough exterior, he had his mother's heart. "I do have a question Gabriel," she pulled away, "What were the other two things?"

Sylar looked confused until he connected the dots. "The hardest thing was Cassie's death, followed by Claire's kidnapping, then accepting that she loves me." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess that makes you fourth not third. Sorry."

"I guess I will not hold any ill will against your wife—I mean fidanzata." _Fiancée._

"Fidanzata," he repeated with a goofy grin plastered on his face, "I like the way that sounds."

"Me too," June hugged him again. "And I am so glad I finally found you. No—that you finally came home."

"Me too," he whispered back.

"I am going to respect your wishes and go home."

He smiled with relief that she'll be safe soon. "Grazie Nonna." _Thank you Grandma._

She placed her hands on his face to have all of his attention as his eyes started to look around the room. "But you have to promise me you will come see me soon."

"I will Nonna," Sylar assured her. "As soon as we find him, I'm coming back home with Claire in tow."

A huge grin broke out on June's face as she asked, "You're both coming back to live there?"

"I'm sure," Sylar said but his tone was uneasy, "I mean, we started building a life there and with the baby coming—."

June laughed. "When you two _actually_ talk about where you will be living; remember you still owe me a visit."

"Yes ma'am." He pulled her into another embrace. He couldn't believe that she could still love him and want him around her. He didn't deserve to have her or Claire in his life. He wasted him too much time being angry with her. He pulled away, "I will take you to the airport."

"Do not be foolish," she told him, "I can arrange my own transportation home."

"I know," Sylar said, "I am still going to escort you to the airport and arrange your ride back to your home. And for extra precaution, I am going to hire security guards." He saw her about to protest his requests. "Nonna you will agree to this if not for then sake of my sanity, then simply because you love me."

"Lo humour auguri mio nipotino è iperprotettivo." _I will humor my overprotective grandson's wishes._ She returned his smile but apart of her wanted to stay here and support him and his unconventional makeshift family of Claire, Matthew, and Sandra. But if her leaving could give him a peace of mind, she would do this for him.

Sylar kissed her cheek before he left to make the arrangements for her for travel. When he was finished with the arrangements, he went to find Claire. He found her right where he left her, but she was watching the _Golden Girls_ with Peter instead of his favorite television show. "Hey," he sat down in front of her on the coffee table. He slid his hands up her legs and rested them on her thighs. He gave her a genuine smile.

"I haven't seen that smile in a while," she said happily as she leaned closer to him, "And what may I ask brought my favorite smile back?"

"I've smiled before—."

"No, you gave my mother numerous—_I'm not afraid of you but I'll humor you_—smiles and a lot of fake smiles to make me believe everything is okay. But an honest to God smile, those that have been in rare form since we got here—outside last night of course."

"Too much information!" Peter objected.

"So I ask again," Claire said as Sylar glared at Peter, "What brings my favorite smile back?"

"I am escorting Nonna to the airport. I have arranged her travel and security for her home while we are away."

"Nonna huh?" Her smile grew. "So you finally pulled your head out of your ass and talked to her."

"Claire! Language!" he exclaimed completely horrified as he lifted his left hand to her stomach. "The_ bean_ can hear that crass language!" Peter bit back his chuckle.

"So," she dragged out the word before continuing, "Overbearing is the kind of father you're aiming for?"

"Excuse me if I don't want the bean's first word to be—" he paused before he spelled, "a-s-s." Claire's laughed at his antics and Peter soon followed.

"As long as the baby can spell it, it's okay though," Claire emphasized before she rolled her eyes.

Sylar looked up at the ceiling as if he was asking God why he was in love with a crazy person. He brought his gaze back to her. "I'll see you later crazy lady."

"I'm coming with you," Claire told him as she got off the couch. "And don't you dare try and fight me on this!"

"I wasn't," Sylar assured her. "I'm not _that_ stupid. Matt wants to come too. I figure if Peter came with us, you and Matt can come back here afterwards while we go do that thing."

"Okay," Claire agreed. She still hated how vague he was when it came to the search for Danko. He had been keeping her at a distance since she had arrived and would not tell her anything about the search. As if the information could damage her in some way. _Speaking of being vague_, she though before she said, "Remember you have that phone call at 2pm today."

"Yes dear," he said in a monotone voice before he gave her a quick kiss and left.

Claire could feel her uncle's eyes on her as she watched Sylar leave the room. "What?"

"It's just—you two seem to be so domesticated and normal."

"What did you think our relationship was like?"

"Not sure," Peter told her truthfully, "I didn't want to be scarred for life with the images. But I sure in he—" he gave her a wicked grin, "I sure in h-e double hockey sticks wasn't expecting anything close to normal." Claire laughed at Peter's spelling antics. She hadn't heard that spelling for hell since she was in seventh grade.

* * *

After saying good bye to June at the airport, Peter and Sylar went towards the bakery. They were standing on the roof kiddy corner from the bakery. "What do you think?" Peter asked as he passed the binoculars to Sylar.

He looked through the lenses as he tried to assess the situation. He frowned. "Something is off. Why is it closed in the middle of the day?"

"The answering machine said it was closed for renovations," Peter informed him. "But Matt found out that this bakery had five renovations in the past year. Each time it looked pretty much the same."

"If this man is connected to Danko, he's going to be making his move soon." Sylar told the other man. "We need to get back and prepare a defense."

Peter grabbed his wrist, "Yeah as well as a kick a-s-s offense." He laughed as Sylar glared at him before he took off. Peter flew out after him.

When the pair landed, they both sought out Claire. She walked into the room with a bowl of ice cream, when she saw Sylar approaching her; she tried to protect the bowl. "I have a craving," when he didn't respond she continued talking. "I ate dinner first." His silence kept her rambling. "Mom said it was okay."

Sylar wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly to his body. It caused the bowl to drop to the ground, not before getting all over the front of their shirts and in her hair. He breathed out the words, "You're okay."

"What's wrong?" The concern was clearly etched in her voice.

"I just missed you two." He kissed the crown of her head.

"Where's Matt?" Peter asked. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable; he just wanted to give this budding family some alone time—even though he wasn't sure what he felt about their relationship yet or what to do about the baby's potential paternity.

"What's going on?" Matt said as he came into the room. He gave Claire a double take, "What happened to you?"

Claire gestured to Sylar with her head, "Someone ruined my well earned bowl of ice cream."

Sylar kissed Claire's head again and let her go. "Why don't you take a shower to get the ice cream out of your hair and I can make you a new treat."

"Ice cream."

"Yes, a frozen dairy product," Sylar told her as his mind tried to find ways to make it healthier version than what was in the bowl prior to their embrace.

Claire narrowed her eyes, "No ice cream; as in the same gooey goodness that was originally in that bowl." She pointed to the ground to her abandoned bowl.

"As you wish," he told her before he pushed her down to the hall. When she was out of sight he turned towards the men, "We have a problem and I don't have much time as her suspicious mind is already trying to make sense in my sudden submission to her request."

"What can we do?" Peter asked as he looked over Sylar's shoulder to see if Claire was coming back.

"You still have that connection with the FBI lady?" Sylar asked Matt.

"No."

"How about with the boy who could manipulate machines?"

"You're no going to—." Peter asked.

"No!" Sylar scuffed at Peter's knee jerk reaction to always thinking the worst of him. "Do me a favor and stop going to the worst case scenario on everything I say!"

"That's how we stay alive," Peter informed him, "by anticipating your worst case scenario."

"He has technopathy. He can manipulate the computer into telling about the employees and we can see if any of them have a connection to Danko."

"Are you saying," Matt asked as he saw Claire come out of the room, "What I think you're saying?"

"I think we found him. And we need to know if he's more connected to that bakery than just the owner." Sylar said to them as he heard her steps getting closer. Claire was coming back with a mind full of his ulterior motives for giving into her sugary desert.

"It makes sense," Peter confirmed, "Danko's been spotted there more often lately." When Sylar found the connection to the bakery, he had hacked into the security feed at the bakery. Danko was coming in more and more to eat. He would talk to the staff and leave his food untouched after his conversations. "And it's going under renovations again."

"We just need to know Jakob Pradasa's connection to Danko—."

"You're out of time," Matt told Sylar as Claire was within earshot of them.

_"Matt I need you to find that boy and the floor plans to the bakery,"_ Sylar sent telepathically to his friend._ "Peter, find out whatever you can about Jakob Pradasa and his connection to Danko."_

"Will do," both men said as Sylar turned around and whispered something in Claire's ear. Her blush and nervous giggle made both men shudder at what he could have possibility said to her to give up on her quest for the truth. But only one was happy for his friends' happiness. Matt felt that they both deserved to be happy after everything they had been through. When Sylar told them he'd be back in a few minutes, neither man believed him.

"We need to get going," Peter said as they started on their newly assigned tasks from their makeshift leader. "There's something off in that bakery and something tells me that we're running out time before Danko makes his move. Sylar can catch up when he's done with Claire." His whole body cringed at his choice of words when it came to his niece and _that_ man.


	21. Puppet Master

AN: I apologize for the delay. There is no excuse. I will just leave you to the next chapter. It is unbeta so please forgive the errors. I'm not sure if I still have a beta or not since it's been so long.

Last bit of housekeeping: I don't know Sylar and Claire's middle names and couldn't find it anywhere, so I made them up for the purposes of this story.

**Chapter 21 Puppet Master **

_You hid your skeletons when I had shown you mine  
You woke the devil that I thought you'd left behind  
I saw the evidence, the crimson soaking through  
Ten thousand promises, ten thousand ways to lose  
And you held it all but you were careless to let it fall  
You held it all and I was by your side, powerless_

_Powerless by Linkin Park_

Peter let out a groan as leaned back and rubbed his eyes. His internet search of Jakob Pradasa came up empty. The only references to the name were in connection with the bakery. A new article on the opening of the bakery a few years ago as well as social media sites under the bakery's name. But nothing on Jakob; not even a picture of him in any of the social media sites. _The man is a ghost. _He looked over at Matt, who seemed to have his luck when it came to getting his hands on the blueprints. "You need to call him."

"I don't want him involved if we don't have to." Matt insisted. This wasn't a fight Matt wanted to drag him into, he wanted him to try and have a normal under the radar life.

"I get what you're trying to do. But Matt, we don't have anymore options left. You _need_ to contact Micah," Peter insisted as he looked down the hallway, "And why the hell hasn't Sylar returned yet!" Peter wasn't sure what angered him more, that Sylar wasn't doing his fair share in the search for Jakob Pradasa or for the past week Sylar's time has been mostly spent alone with Claire doing—God he really didn't want to imagine any scenario that kept Sylar from the his mission to destroy Danko. Peter wasn't sure about Matt, but he was fed up with Sylar not doing his share of the work. It pissed him off that Sylar rather play house with Claire than find Danko. He was the smartest man Peter had ever known. It still amazed him to watch Sylar's mind work as it made connections that his own mind could not see. Peter knew it wasn't being fair to Sylar. The man tried his hardest to balance fatherhood and revenge. The truth of it all was Peter and Matt was not enough. Their most valued asset in their crusade to destroy Danko was sidelined to care for his wife and a child that would never truly belong to him. Peter understood that Claire needed Sylar now more than ever. She was pregnant by a monster. She needed Sylar. He couldn't be mad at Sylar either for the way he took care of the woman he loved with every fiber of his being. Peter groaned. _This is one big fucked up mess._

"Fine," Matt relented as he pulled out his phone to contact Molly to get a hold of Micah. _God forgive me for dragging another minor into this mess._ "Molly, I need to ask you a favor. If this makes you uncomfortable, you can say no." He sighed when he heard the young girl promise she'd do anything for him. "I need to get a hold of Micah." Matt hung up the phone and rubbed his temples as he waited for his phone to beep with the text message containing the phone number he requested. "I'm definitely going to hell."

"I'm right there with you," Peter mumbled as he felt the same guilt Matt did, he wanted to keep Micah and Molly off of Danko's radar.

As Matt was on the phone Peter heard the front door open and the security code punched in. He went to the door to see who it was and was surprised at the man before him.

"What?" Sylar asked as he noticed Peter's stare. Sylar gestured to Matt with a nod of the head to come find him when he was off the phone.

Peter looked at him and then the hallway. "Weren't you in—?"

"I left about three hours ago," Sylar said, "I went to the bakery disguised as an old lady I touched on the way there while these were being prepared." He waved the envelope.

"What's in there?" Peter asked as he noticed the gloves Sylar wore. The weather was too nice for gloves. "Why are you wearing gloves?"

"Nothing that concerns you so but out," Sylar ignored Peter's scowl as he continued, "But I think I figured out how to get into the bakery undetected since going as Danko would send a red flag."

"How?"

"There's an employee there that is quite a man whore," Sylar explained, "I'll follow him home tonight—."

"You're not going to kill him!"

"Seriously!" Sylar practically growled out, "Why is that your knee jerk reaction to _everything_ I do!"

"Force of habit." His tone let Sylar know he wasn't apologetic at all as Sylar pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"I'm going to do one of Matt's voodoo mind thing—"

"Voodoo mind thing? You have been hanging around Claire too much. You're starting to talk like her."

"Shut up!" Sylar warned before he continued, "I'll put him in a trance like I did with Sandra. I'll pull him out of said trance after I return from the bakery. I will give him my memories of my time there."

"Even if Danko suspects something, he won't be able to trace it to us."

"Hopefully, remember he's crazy not stupid." Sylar knew this plan wasn't fool proof. He also made the connection to Danko being Jakob long ago. He knew Peter and Matt would be pissed at him for withholding this information. Especially Peter since he spent days looking for Jakob. Sylar looked out the balcony to the massive amount of windows in the surrounding buildings. Danko had the penthouse under surveillance and Sylar still couldn't figure out where he was hiding out. Sylar wished he knew what window, what apartment as it could give him a better understanding of what Danko could see. But most importantly, he needed to get into that bakery to figure out what Danko was up do. Whatever Danko's next move was, he was using that bakery to make his next weapon. He had to play this close to the vest for Claire's protection and to buy him more time to get Claire and their baby to safety. "We just need to buy more time. We also need to know what he's doing."

_Smoke and mirrors._ Peter shook his head. If Danko was involved and traced Sylar's activities to that man whore as Sylar put it, that kid would be dead. Peter didn't like this plan anymore. He didn't want the kid's blood on his hands. "You need a new plan. If Danko is involved this—."

"Its recon," Sylar argued as he turned his attention from the buildings across the street to the younger man, "I'll work a full day's shift and see what I can see with his access. The risk is minimal. With my ability to know the history of an object by touching it should be easy to pass myself off as him."

"I still don't like it." Peter voiced his concerns, "What if Danko figures it out and traces you back to him?"

"Collateral damage," Sylar said without hesitation or remorse.

"No!" Peter nearly yelled at the other man who could not be steered from this course of action. In his desperation he blurted out Claire's name, hoping it would do something.

"This is for Claire." Sylar didn't understand what the young Petrelli was hoping to accomplish with saying her name. By the look on his face, neither did he.

"Claire won't like it," Peter finished lamely before a thought crossed his mind.

"It's for her safety."

"What if someone out there developed a plan like this but used Claire's face," Peter countered, "Would she be collateral damage?"

Sylar closed his eyes before he let out a frustrated groan. Peter's comment was way below the belt because it was true. She was someone else's collateral damage—his and her fathers. He opened his eyes and glared at the younger man. "You win this round," Sylar said, "But now it's up to you to find something better."

Peter nodded his head as Sylar went to find Matt. As he watched him leave, he wondered what he should do about the truth of paternity he stumbled upon. Could he wait for Claire to tell them the truth? Would she? After Claire was kidnapped, Peter quickly learned that Sylar was not the most immoral person on this planet and would do anything to protect Claire and her child. _Sylar would be the better father than Danko._ Peter watched the two men fought over the contents of the envelope Sylar had brought in with him. He felt his niece's head rest on his shoulder as she laughed at the sight before them.

"Lover's quarrel," she whispered to Peter and laughed when Sylar glared at her.

"You know what you have to do," Sylar hissed at Matt before he escaped to the balcony. His eyes swept the windows across from him as he searched for a glimmer of hope that he could find Danko's location.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Claire whispered.

"Anything," Peter immediately responded as he hoped she would open up to him about her time with Danko.

"I think if Sylar were to leave me if would be for Matt Parkman," she said coyly, "Their bromance would be _epic_." She held in her smile for a good thirty seconds before a huge grin broke out on her face.

"You're _fucking_ hilarious Claire Bennet!" Sylar screamed from the balcony, causing Peter and Claire to burst of in laughter as Matt glared at them as he walked past them.

"Don't be like that," Peter called after Matt.

"Fuck off!" Matt yelled back as he past Sandra in the hall. "Put that on Sylar's tab."

Sandra looked at him for a moment wondering what he was talking about when she remembered the swear jar. "He actually owes me money for the jar."

"Then add it to his debt." Matt went into his room and shut the door. He quickly closed the curtains before he went to hide the envelope. After finding a secure location he went to the door and opened it at the same time Peter was about to knock. "Jesus!" Matt said as a hand went to his heart, "You scared me the shit out of me!"

"Sorry, I just wanted answers."

"On?"

"The envelope," Peter said, "I asked Sylar and he said it wasn't any of my business."

"It's not," Matt quickly agreed with Sylar's earlier comment, "it only concerns me."

"Why?"

Matt rubbed his temples as he could feel another headache coming. "Because when you two go after Danko, I'm leaving with Claire."

"What does that have to do with the envelope?"

"I'll need whatever is in there when the time comes to make our escape."

"What's in there?" Peter asked again. He was getting tired of the run around. He might not be apart of their epic bromance but he was apart of this team damn it!

"The only person who will know the contents of that envelope is the person who will be on the run with Claire. You choose to stay with Sylar."

Peter absorbed the information Matt told him, "So Sylar doesn't even know the identities?"

"Sylar doesn't know anything about the contents of the envelope," Matt said as Peter remembered the gloves Sylar wore in the warm weather. "He made sure to wear gloves when handling it so he wouldn't accidentally learn the history of it and the contents. If you do get caught; it doesn't matter how much torture you'll endure. Neither of you can accidently give up Claire's location." Matt remained silent as he watched Peter nod his head, he would not be asking anymore questions about the contents. "Did you ever find out who Jakob Pradasa is or why he's connected?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"The name sounds familiar," Matt said, "I feel like I know him from somewhere, but I can't remember when. I hear his name and I see a blonde hair woman."

"Wife?"

"I don't know," Matt said, "I can't put my finger on it."

Claire watched Peter chase after Matt before her gaze shifted to Sylar. She walked quietly towards the balcony. "What'cha doing?" She grew immediately concerned when his body didn't recoiled at her words or immediately corrected her. Claire waited a few seconds before she attempted to goat him again. "Are you _gonna_ ignore me sweetheart?" She wrapped her arms around his waist as her distress grew tenfold. Sylar just stood with his eyes fixed at the building across the street. She wasn't sure if he was ignoring her for her comments or so lost in his own head he couldn't hear her. Claire lifted her hand and waved it in front of his face. "Hello, earth to Sylar." When he looked down surprised, she knew something was wrong.

"Can I help you with something Jiminy?"

Claire smiled at the familiar nickname he had given her. She felt herself getting lost in the memory.

_They were dating—courting as Sylar would say—for a few weeks and this morning was about discovery. To learn more about the other's past. It was hard at the beginning to find something that wouldn't trigger something volatile in Sylar. His memories were saturated in pain. Claire had come up with the idea to share their favorite things with each other. Sylar didn't like the mundane and predictable suggestion. After he recovered from the sharp elbow in the stomach, he admitted defeat. There was nothing in his childhood or young adulthood that would achieve their goal of this week's therapeutic homework. Claire almost felt bad when he apologized for not having anything exciting in his life to share with her. Then she realized that was once again trying to weasel himself out of their homework._

_They had spent the day telling each other their favorite things in the world by sharing it with each other. Claire had shared with him her favorite movie, The Notebook; and Sylar shared that he wished to have those three hours of his life back. He had Claire watch a real love story as they watched Casablanca. It made Claire cry as they did not end up together. Sylar earned another jab in the gut when he told her that no all love stories get a happy ending. Sometimes you sacrifice yourself for the one you love. She pulled him closer and hoped that their fate wouldn't be like Rick Blaine and Ilsa Lund._

_As the sun was setting on their day of discovery, they were laying in the hammock as Sylar read to her his favorite story from his childhood—Pinocchio. _

"_Why do you love this story so much?" Claire asked as he closed the book._

"_Partly because I longed to have what Pinocchio had; a father who loved him unconditionally," Sylar whispered his secret to her. "Geppetto loved his wooden son so much, who wouldn't crave to be cherished that much."_

"_Sylar," Claire sighed as she felt his pain._

"_But mostly I love this story so much because when I close my eyes and let the memory fill me, I can hear her voice," Sylar confessed, "My mamma's voice, not Virginia's. This book is actually belongs to her."_

_She lifted her head to look at his face. "How is that even possible?"_

"_June gave it to me as a gift," Sylar told her, "I saw it on her bookshelf and told her how much I adored this story growing up. I had my own copy until..." Sylar trailed off as he fought to keep the memory buried deep inside._

_Claire looked up to see him fighting a memory. She lifted her hand to caress his cheek. "Sweetheart?"_

"_Virginia burned my copy to punish me for—for—"_

"_It's okay," she whispered as she brushed her lips against his. She knew what he was trying to say. Virginia burned it after Cassie killed herself. _Did that woman know any compassion?_ "It's okay." She repeated again._

"_I'm sorry," he whispered to her, "I didn't mean to bring _that_ woman into our day."_

"_Well she is the white elephant in the room sometimes," Claire told him, "And she didn't deserve you."_

"_I don't deserve you."_

"_We've already discussed this and I don't feel like repeating myself about what one can and cannot say about the man I adore."_

"_Then let's agree to disagree and move on."_

_Claire rolled her eyes as she smiled. "You're incorrigible."_

"_It's all part of my charm."_

"_If you say so Mr. Gray," Claire said as she brushed her lips against his again. "So this book is your favorite because you remember your mother reading this to you?" She left out his other memory as they tried to focus on the good, not the horrifically awful parts of his childhood._

"_This is her book," Sylar told her getting back to the story before they got distracted. "June told me that her parents read her this story and she read it to Addie. She wanted me to have it since I'm the closest thing she has left for family."_

"_That is incredibly generous of her."_

"_She made me promise to read it to my children," Sylar confessed, "I didn't have the heart to tell her that no woman in her right mind would want to bare my children." Claire gave him a look. "Don't give me that look. You know that's true."_

"_I would concur with the assessment of the old you, but not the new version of you."_

_Sylar looked at her with lustful eyes, "Concur with the assessment?" he repeated, "You really know who to turn on a guy." He moved his head closer towards her._

"_If that's all it takes, then I've gotta do it move often." Her eyes opened when she saw him pull away. "What?" She looked at him with creased brows. _

"_Gotta?" He said with distain, "And just like that the mood was ruined."_

"_You are _hopeless_," she told him._

"_So I've been told numerous times in my life," Sylar told her and he pulled her close. "This story reminds me a bit of us."_

"_Is this the part when you confess you're really made of wood?" She knocked on his chest and pretended listen carefully at the sound her fist made._

_Sylar resisted the urge to groan at her choice of words. He looked at her and wondered if she was really this clueless or just really good at making him believe she was this innocent. "No and yes," Sylar told her as he pulled her hand away from his chest, "I can assure you that I have always been make of flesh and bones my entire existence but I've never someone to guide me, to teach me right and wrong. And because of it, I lacked a definite moral compass."_

_"So I'm the Blue Fairy," Claire said to Sylar's confused expression, "You know 'let you conscious be your guide' I'm the conscious."_

"_Yes sweetheart," he confirmed, "You are my very own Jiminy Cricket. The person with a moral compass firmly in place—who made me want to be a better man. A man who would be worthy of your affections and would make you proud."_

"_The insect?" she exclaimed as she didn't hear anything he said after cricket, "But the pretty blue dress is so much more flattering on my figure than a suit and top hat, don't you think?"_

"_Whatever you say Jiminy," he leaned closer, "How about we end this evening with some necking?"_

_She pulled away from his slow approach. "Depends on what necking is?"_

"_Making out."_

"_Oh this little bug is all for some necking." Claire could feel the vibrations from his laughter as his lips made contact with hers._

The memory faded as she felt him turn around in her arms. She looked up into his eyes and could see the wheels turning. "So what is the moral dilemma?"

"Who says I have one?"

"You called me Jiminy," Claire said, "You rarely do that expect when you think you are doing something I would not approve of. Something you think I will hate you for doing."

Sylar sighed as her words hit him. She knew him better than he thought she did. He shook his head in disbelief that she's not running for the hills to get away from him. "I found where Danko is hiding but he's up to something," Sylar explained in a slow, low tone, "I can't plan an attack until I know what it is—what I—we will be walking in on."

"The dilemma?"

"I can pose as someone that is in," he paused to find the right words to say that will make his point but keep it vague at the same time, "the area but no direct contact with Danko," Sylar said, "The probability of Danko finding out that this person did anything would be slim and the likelihood to tracing it back to us would be even slimmer." The guilt of Peter's earlier words about collateral damage hit him hard again as he looked at Claire. Her association with him made her his collateral damage. He made a silent vow at that moment never to let her become collateral damage again. He would tear the world apart if anyone dare use her against him again. Her voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"And if Danko thought this man had crossed him when you were posing as him?" Sylar looked at her, she knew the answer. "If it was me, would you still do it?"

"I would like to say no but we both know I stood on this very balcony posing at you with a sign that goaded him to come and get me."

"That's because you thought I would be in a car with Parkman, not a plane."

"You did ruin that for me didn't you?" Sylar wasn't surprised when she wasn't apologetic at all for her actions.

"Same question," Claire told him, "Would you do it now, with me here with you?"

"I'd rather give Bennet free access to my kill switch then put you in any danger no matter how small the risk."

"There's your answer."

"But he's not you Claire," Sylar told her as if that would justify his actions. "He's doesn't mean anything to me—to us. He's expendable."

"No one is expendable," Claire whispered back, "Do you know why?" Sylar shook his head. "But he's someone's Claire."

"Danko has declared war on us—on you." He felt like he's done this before—begged her to let him protect her, care for her. "And in war there is always collateral damage. I just want you to be safe when this is finally behind us. I'd _do_ anything to keep you safe—to keep the bean safe." He rested his hand on her stomach briefly before returning his hand to her hip. He could feel eyes watching him and he didn't want Danko to know about the baby.

"And I want you to be safe too," she responded without hesitation, "I don't want you to go back down that dark path again. I'm afraid if you do, you won't find your way back to the light. I want us all to come back safe with our souls intact." Claire watched as he closed his eye and inhale deeply. With each passion second, she could feel his resolve lessen. She knew she won this round.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "This is why you are the insect and I am the puppet."

"Damn straight." Claire leaned up to kiss him when she heard someone clear their throat.

Peter saw two sets of eyes on him. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need a moment of Sylar's time."

"No problem," Claire said, "We were just finishing up." She pulled Sylar down and kissed his cheek. Before she let go she whispered that she'd see him soon.

Peter closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to witness Sylar watching his niece's ass as she swayed her hips. "Could you please remember she is my niece and I don't appreciate seeing your predatory eyes on her ass as she is walking away?"

"Ava two point fucking O," Sylar mumbled under his breath as crossed his arms and leaned against the balcony. He really needed to stop with the F bombs. Sandra was going to be a millionaire at this rate.

"What?"

"Don't forget that little vixen was swaying said ass to draw attention to it," Sylar said slowly as he held up one finger as he made his point. He smirked with Peter scoffed. "What do you need to discuss with me?" Sylar leaned against the edge and crossed his arms against his chest.

"The baby."

"Wait I know where this is going," Sylar interrupted him, "Because I'm a truly sick son of a bitch, I raped Claire when I found her at Coyote Sands and now she truly the definition of Stockholm Syndrome as she believes the bad man that hurt her is the good guy." He glared at Peter before he turned back towards the endless sea of windows. "You need to find a new tune because the one where I'm _always_ the bad guy has gotten _really_ old."

"I know you didn't rape her," Peter told him.

Sylar scoffed, "Well that has to be a first."

"Stop being an ass!"

"You first!" Sylar yelled back.

Peter closed his eyes and breathed slowly. This was not how he wanted this to go, but then again, this is the first conversation Peter wasn't accusing him of doing something evil. This is why Sylar is always been suspicious of his motivates and looking for the real reason to any of their interactions.

"It was an accident," Peter told Sylar, "I didn't mean to pry into her mind—."

"What did you do?" Sylar turned around and stared down the guilty man.

"I was looking at the ultrasound and thinking to myself that the baby looked too big for how old it was suppose to be, that yes, you did rape her and that Claire because a victim of—."

"Un-fucking-believable!" Sylar snapped at him. "Hasn't she been violated enough by him! By her father! You didn't think that was enough so you felt the need to add yourself to the list of her perpetrators! You selfish son of a bitch!"

"It was an accident. Her thoughts were just screaming at me!" Peter tried to defend himself. "I couldn't drown her out."

Sylar pitched the bridge of his nose as he tried to digest everything he was told. He knew from past experiences that Claire would openly scream her thoughts into the room, not knowing that anyone with Parkman's ability could hear her. She was unfiltered in her mind and didn't or wouldn't block anyone out. Because of this, the secret Claire never wanted anyone to know; was out in the open. He looked at the other man with his defensive walls around his mind. Peter Petrelli would not get anything from him. "What do you think you know?"

"I know that you aren't the baby's father because Claire was terrified that you couldn't love a child that wasn't yours, that had such a violent beginning."

Sylar closed his eyes as he inhaled. Claire was going to be devastated when he told her Peter knew. He could tell that Claire was seeking comfort once again in the make believe world they had built in North Carolina. Now Peter knowing the truth, it would threaten her world of the happy family of three. It would send her over the deep end and they were trapped in New York with her therapist thousands of miles away.

Peter saw Sylar's entire body deflate with each word he spoke. Sylar was worried about Claire and how she would respond to the news. "She doesn't need to know."

"I'm not about to start lying to her Peter," Sylar said, "It will be more damaging when the truth comes out."

"It wouldn't be technically lying if you didn't say anything," Peter explained, "Only if she asked you if I knew and you said no."

Sylar looked at him, completely baffled. "A lie of omission is still a lie. When did you become the morally gray one?"

"The moment I found out that Danko raped my niece and ended up fathering her child!" Peter hissed at the other man. "I would rather _you_ be the child's father than that monster!"

"It's not Danko's, it's—."

"Yours," Peter finished, "And I'm going to make sure the truth **never** comes out. That child will be yours and no one else's."

"Why?" Sylar couldn't understand his motivates for doing this. Peter finally got his wish, leverage against him to get Claire away from him. He knew Peter saw this baby as an eternal bond between them.

"I would like to say that you're the lesser of the two evils, but that's not entirely true anymore." Peter confessed. "I see the change and didn't want to believe it—until now."

"Why now?"

"You are claiming a child as yours, knowing what its father did to its mother. You are willing to endure the evil glares and accusations that you raped Claire and now have her mind so messed up in believing that she loves you—."

"There's a point coming right?" Sylar didn't need to be reminded how much Claire's family hated him and believed the worst of him.

"You did all of this. Took the brunt of all the hostility from Claire's family, let us all believe that you did the unthinkable, all for a child that will never belong to you biologically. So that child will never have to know what a true monster is or that that beast is their father. Because you know what it is like to be raised by one of hell's rejects and to be biologically related to a man who would kill his own son to stay alive. You did it out of selflessness and love for a child that you didn't even know. You just wanted him or her to never know the horrors you did growing up. That man," Peter hesitated, "is someone who is worth is salt on this earth. That man, I admire because as good and upstanding man as you claim me to be, I'm not sure I could make that decision. No one can, until they are there in the moment. So you have my blessing as long as you continue this new path in your life. You slip back into the darkness and I will take them away from you in a heartbeat to protect them." Peter stood his ground under Sylar's hostile glare, until his eyes softened before Sylar turned back to the endless sea of windows.

"Thank you," Sylar told him, "I know this isn't easy for you."

"None of this is easy," Peter responded as he leaned against the balcony rail next to him, "I want you to know that I won't say anything. This doesn't have to go further than the two of us." Peter watched Sylar as he was making a pro/con list in his head.

"I found—," a cheerful Matt stopped dead in his tracks at the intense stare down between the two men in front of him. Matt frowned at the sight as he felt out of place. Which was completely ridiculous, Peter is the odd man out in this threesome of unlikely allies. "What is going on here?"

Sylar gave him a wicked grin, "Sounds like someone is jealous." He said the word _jealous_ in a sing-song-voice.

"What?" Matt's voice was a little too pitchy for his liking and narrowed his eyes when Sylar laughed. "I'm not jealous."

"I can have more than one friend."

"I'm not jealous."

"Are you sure? Because your face is a little flushed with green there buddy," Sylar laughed at Matt's scowl.

"Do I need to be here for this?" Peter asked. Claire was right about one thing; Matt was definitely the other man in her relationship with Sylar. He felt Sylar's glare and knew the other man read his thoughts.

"Don't worry about it," Sylar said, "We were just talking about tonight's recon mission."

"I don't believe you," Matt said, "Not because I'm jealous but because Peter said this doesn't have to go further than the two of us. It means you two have a secret."

"Sylar was asking for my blessing on Claire," Peter half lied.

"Sylar would never do that." Matt countered. It was out of character for Sylar as well as something that did not need to be kept a secret between the two.

"Would you stop asking like a jealous idiot for one second and remember that you're my only friend in this fucked up world and then get over it." Sylar snapped at him, "And then tell us whatever you wanted to share when you came in here." Matt was about to open his mouth when Sylar signaled him to stop. He looked back at the endless sea of windows before turning back to the other men. "Not here," Sylar said, "I can feel his eyes on me." He looked at the building across the way one more time. "I just don't know where."

Danko watched in his darkened perch as watched Matt Parkman's meltdown. He saw Sylar turn back to the windows and Danko's breath caught in his throat when Sylar's eyes looked at his window before sweeping more. "You'll never figure out where I am." Danko laughed as he watched Sylar shove the other men towards the door. Danko didn't have any sound, only his bird's eye view from the neighboring building across the way. Watching Matt and Sylar argue he drew the only connection that made since. "I guess Peter and Matt finally realized there is no working with Sylar." He retrieved the ringing phone from his pocket. "This better be good news."

"_It will be ready in 48 hours."_

"Good," Danko said, "I'll start preparations into the next phase of the plan." He hung up the phone and stuffed it into his pocket. His plan was coming together nicely at the same time Claire Bennet's heroes were falling apart. "They should have known better than to trust that selfish bastard with the little whore's safety."

"I found Jakob Pradasa." Matt blurted out.

"How is that even possible?" Peter said, "He's a ghost."

Sylar closed his eyes and didn't know what to hope for, that if Matt really found him would they play along for the buy more time or would everything blow up in his face.

"I remember him. A few years ago I had made Danko think his great love was in danger. I wanted to use her against him," Matt explained, "He went to this woman's house who knew him as Jakob Pradasa."

Sylar opened his eyes and turned back towards the window. He could still feel eyes watching them.

"I took her to Danko's apartment. It was after he killed Daphne, I just wanted him to feel the same pain he inflicted on me." Matt looked away. "But I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill her. She was innocent in all of this." Matt let out a humorless laugh. "Even after threatening to kill her, she stepped in front of me to stop Danko from killing me. I can only assume that she broke up with him after I had disappeared." Matt looked at his best friend and couldn't understand why he wasn't happy like Peter was. They had found the mysterious man. "Why aren't you happy?"

Sylar grabbed Matt and pushed him again the wall. "Act pissed off."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Matt hissed back. "We found—."

"I know!" Sylar yelled at him, "But Danko can't know you two know!"

"What do you mean you _two?_" Peter asked as Sylar cursed at his slip up.

"I really need sleep, I'm not on top of my game," Sylar had mumbled to himself. He looked at Matt and saw the recognition in his eyes.

"How long?"

"It's doesn't matter," Sylar side stepped the question as he shoved Matt into the wall again, "All that matters is we don't let Danko know we know. We need to show chaos."

"Why didn't you tell me? Peter I understand—."

"Hey!" Peter objected.

"But I'm your friend," Matt continued. Sylar's betrayal was written clearly on his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was playing it close to the vest. I needed you to play the part well and the only way I knew how was to keep you in the dark."

Matt punched his friend in the face. "Fuck you!" He punched him again. "You don't get to keep us on the dark on this stuff! We could have played the part knowing the truth."

"Would you have put this much effort into it if you already knew the answer?" Sylar asked them. When Matt punched him again, he knew the answer and still didn't defend himself or fight back. "I thought so." Matt pushed Sylar away from him.

"That doesn't make what you did right."

"The ends justify the means," Sylar told Matt. "Think about it. We are a few steps ahead of that bastard. This is what you've been wanting for so long."

"And that makes it right?" Matt exclaimed, "You lied to us. This whole time Peter and I were feeling like assholes that couldn't catch up to the game Danko was playing. When this whole time, you were _ahead_ of him—using us to keep him in the dark. It's not right."

"I was keeping Claire safe," Sylar crossed his arms as he continued to justify his actions. "Every decision I have made over the past few months have been for her and her alone. I have a family I need to protect."

"We all do!" Matt yelled back as he suppressed the urge to punch him again. He really wanted to, but knew he was running low on free passes to hit Sylar without him hitting back.

"We shouldn't be keeping secrets from each other," Peter said as he stepped between the two friends to play referee.

Matt let out another laugh that did not reach him eyes. "That is rich; you two are already keeping secrets from me!" Matt gestured between the both of them.

"Stop it!" Claire yelled from the hallway. Three sets of eyes turned to look at her and her mother watching them. Claire pulled her robe tighter to her body. "What is going on here?"

"Nothing," Sylar quickly said before he turned his attention to his friend, "Matt put some bullshit on the board for the asshole to read."

"I'm not your servant you just can't order me around!"

Sylar walked over to their fake board of leads. He ripped it off the wall and threw it across the room. "Then do whatever the fuck you want to do!" His whole body was oozing with rage and the need to hurt something. He hadn't felt this angry in a long time. He needed to get out before he did something that he couldn't take back. He started to leave when he felt her hand on his arm. "Don't," he whispered, "I need to clear my head."

"Please don't go," Claire said, "I can help. Just let me help."

"I'm afraid of what I will do if I stay here," Sylar confessed. "I need a time out."

"Take Peter—" Claire looked at Matt who snorted something that sounded like _of course, the new friend_ before glancing back at Sylar who was pinching his nose. "Or Matt. Just don't go alone."

"I need some time to myself. You will be safe here with them." He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Don't _do_ anything stupid."

"Of course." She saw a glimpse of a smile at her words before it faded. Sylar walked into the balcony as his eyes continued to search for the Peeping Tom across the way. The smile appeared on his face again when he heard Matt scream in pain as Claire demanded to know what he did to piss her Sylar off. "That's my girl." The smile faded when he realized he was the culprit of this particular fight and took flight before Claire could reach him.

"That's cheating!" she screamed after him.

Sylar's smirk fell when he saw Peter in his peripheral vision flying next to him. He groaned. "Go away."

"We still have some things to talk about." Peter told him. "About all those secrets you've been keeping from us."

Sylar tried to out run him, but the young Petrelli said close to his heels. He sighed in defeat and landed on a rooftop as he waited for Peter. Sylar tried to read his mind to learn what secret Peter thought he knew. Sylar had many secrets and wasn't willing to give them all up guessing what Peter knew. Peter was reciting the alphabet in his mind over and over again to keep out Sylar. He rolled his eyes. _I trained him too well._ Sylar stood stoic as he waited for Peter to speak.

"I want to know what you're doing."

"You'll have to be more specific. I have my hands in a lot of cookie jars," Sylar said sarcastically.

"Cut the bullshit Sylar!" Peter barely yelled at him. "I'm not a puppet and you can't pull my strings to bend to your will!" The gleam in Sylar's eyes made him uncomfortable. As Sylar raised his hands Peter lost control of his body. He glared at the other man who seemed amused by this all.

"You forget who I am," Sylar told him, "and what I am capable of! I've been pulling the strings for years. Even when I showed up at your door I was in control of it all."

"No you lead us," Peter cut him off; "There's a difference between being a leader and inspiring and be manipulative and cunning. I know you're not that person anymore; even when you slip up in your overwhelming need to protect her." Peter felt his body regain its control. He signed in relief that his gamble had won.

"I spoke with Claire," Peter explained, "Well more like got bitched out by Claire."

Sylar raised his eyebrows in surprise. _What does he think Claire know? More importantly, what would she tell him?_ He remained silent as he waited for Peter to continue. He may be on the path to a better human being, but he wasn't ready to give up all his secrets. Especially to someone who could easily become his enemy again once this has all been resolved. _He did promise to kill me when this was over._

"And she socked me hard in the arm because of you." Peter unconsciously rubbed his arm that was assaulted earlier today by his niece. "So again, what is going on with you?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with me. It's between you and Claire—"

"It was about you," Peter interrupted him as he took a step closer to get a better look at the other man's face. "About how _I'm_ keeping you up all night looking for Danko, which is really quite odd since you force us all to better early to ensure we have at least eight hours of sleep."

Sylar broke eye contact with him and looked at the ground. Peter, more like Claire, had caught his hand in the wrong cookie jar. _I used to much better at this. Is Claire making me soft and stupid?_

"So I ask again, what are you keeping from me? From Matt?" Peter's jaw clenched when Sylar turned completely away from him. "I'm your partner and he's your best friend. Most importantly, we are a team on this. I know you're not use to being a _team _player but you can't keep going off at your own and keeping secrets. We deserve to know what the fuck you've been doing behind our backs."

"I was protecting Claire."

"We're _all_ trying to protect Claire," Peter corrected the other man, "But we need to work together to be effective. We can't do that if you keep hiding shit from us!"

Sylar breathed deeply. "I know what I'm doing and it's a solo activity—."

"Bull shit!" Peter hissed out as he grabbed Sylar's arm and forced the other man to turn around and look at him. "We are a team. We all want to protect Claire and kill that asshole so he can never physically harm Claire _ever_ again." Realization hit Peter like a ton of bricks. "That's what you've been doing all week hasn't it? When we thought you were with Claire you were out on your own doing only God knows what!"

Sylar broke free from Peter's grip and turned back toward the building's edge and looked into the horizon.

Peter sighed before he joined Sylar near the edge. He had to change his tactic. Sylar was never going to respond well to being screamed at. Peter told a deep breath to calm himself before trying a different approach. "I know it's hard for you." Questioning eyes turned to look at him. "You've been alone for so long that you only had to look out for yourself. That was your life. Then within weeks you went from completely alone and only having to look out for yourself; to another life—_lives_ depending on you to care for and protect them. You find your grandmother after all this time. You have this friend who will do anything for you, who Claire and I strongly believes, has _huge_ man crush on you." Peter smiled when Sylar scoffed. "And you have a family— unconventional as it maybe, it's your family." Peter reached out and rested his hand on the other man's shoulder. "You have me too." Sylar turned to him, completely caught off guard with Peter's last statement. "Most importantly, it's not your responsibility to take this on all by yourself. We're a family now and we look out for each other Sylar. It's a two way street. We depend on you and you depend on us." Peter turned to look at the skyline as Sylar did. "I know this won't be easy Sylar, but your life stopped being solitary the moment you decided to claim Claire's baby has your own. Your life is never going to be yours anymore. It's going to be messed in with others all connected to that fragile life. Yes sometimes life will become overly dramatic to go along with the peaceful days; but you're never going to be alone again."

Sylar stood there as he absorbed all of Peter's words. He had a lot to think about. Thinking that did not require an audience.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts," Peter said as he stepped onto the ledge, before he jumped off he turned to Sylar. "Don't worry about Claire and the baby. Matt and I will take great care of them."

"Don't worry?" Sylar shook his head, "not likely, but I'll try to worry less about their safety with you two there."

Peter gave him a small smile. "See that, progress!"

Sylar rolled his eyes as the other man flew off. He rubbed his face with his left hand before he ran his fingers through his hair as he processed everything Peter had told him. His eyes stared at silver ring on his left and knew the younger Petrelli was right. The moment Sylar had walked through that door under the premise of peace, he had been pulling their strings liked a skilled puppeteer. Until the moment his beloved clued one of his wooden dolls that they were being controlled. It was unsettling how well she knew him and what she had to say to Peter to get him to do her bidding. Sylar briefly wondered if Claire was somehow the puppet master and he was a foolish wooden boy believing he had the power to control the people around him. He shook his head and laughed at that thought. Claire had no idea what he was up to and only approached Peter out of concern for his well being. Claire trusted him with her well being when it came to hunting Danko. He paused again to wonder if she was the one pulling the strings. He groaned realizing this line of thinking would get him no where close to his objective. That was Danko, not trying to understand the most infuriating woman he had ever met. She was strong, but still so fragile from what that asshole did to her. Which is why she gave him so much leeway when it came to his own personal mission to wipe that piece of shit off the face of the planet; and it was what he intended to continue to do. He'd gladly give his own life, if it meant her safety. Something his former self would never even consider. "What the hell did I get myself into?" He inhaled deeply as he exhaled he knew this makeshift family was going to be the death of him. Sylar thought about what he was going to do next. "Well," he shrugged, "I'm already in trouble for being a lone wolf, might as well check the last two items off of my to do list before I turn in go home and become a team player." Sylar flew off towards the bakery as he pulled out his cell phone to see if Micah was ready for the next steps of his plan.

Peter returned back to the apartment and found Matt and Claire waiting for him. Peter noticed they both looked past him to look for who he assumed was Sylar. "I left him on the roof to think about what we talked about."

"Idiot," Claire yelled at her uncle.

"Excuse me?" Her words stung hard.

"She's right," Matt told the other man, "We inadvertently stumbled upon Sylar's daily activities. He knows he's caught."

"And since he's already in trouble—." Claire said.

"He's going to finish whatever he had planned on doing tonight before he had to start playing with the team." Peter shook his head. _How did I not see that one coming?_ "Idiot!" he mumbled to himself as he turned back towards the balcony.

"Do you need help finding him?" Matt asked.

"I know where he is," Peter said as he jumped off the balcony he said, "I'm not a complete idiot." Peter flew as quickly as he could to the rooftop they were spy on the bakery at. That is where he found Sylar on the phone. Anger consumed him when he heard Sylar said Micah's name. "Was any of the shit you had us working on something you didn't already know!"

Sylar turned around and looked guilty. "How did you—."

"When I came back without you Matt clued me into how your brain operates."

"Well I figured if I was already in trouble I might as well take a peek inside." Sylar shrugged. There wasn't an ounce of regret or remorse found on his features. "Since you're here you can play look out."

Peter glared at him.

"What?" Sylar asked, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"You're unbelievable!"

"Everything is arranged," Sylar said, "Micah is about to manipulate the security equipment as he walks me through the building, I'll be a ghost."

Peter held out the cell phone for Sylar to give to him. Sylar gave it to him as watched the younger man put it up to his ear. "We need to do this another night."

"We can't," Micah told him. "It took weeks to get this right. If we don't go now, who knows when our next window will be!"

Peter turned his back to Sylar. "How long have you two been working on this?"

"Since Matt asked to me to wipe out Sylar's criminal record," Micah confessed. He heard the other man curse. "I wouldn't do it right away until I knew he wasn't the boogeyman anymore."

"How did you come to that?"

"I watched him through security feed," Micah said, "After that; I offered my services to him while doing what Matt asked of me. The baby deserves to have two loving parents."

"So you tracked down Sylar?"

"More like he was already looking for me and I made it really easy for him to find me."

"Why tonight?"

"We spent weeks creating this window," Micah reminded Peter as his voice became sterner, "And there is nothing you can do to stop us."

"He's rubbing off on you," Peter said, "What can I do?" Peter turned towards Sylar when he heard the man clap his hands together.

"That's more like it," Sylar said with a grin.

"First, don't tell him about the record;" Micah told Peter, "Matt wants it to be a surprise."

Peter's eyes fell on Sylar who was staring at the bakery, uninterested in his conversation with the teenager. _Well if that bastard can keep secrets._ "Done." Peter answered his phone as he walked over to Sylar and gave his back. Both men put in their Bluetooth for maneuverability. Peter stayed on the rooftop for a bird's eye view of the building and its surroundings as Sylar went inside, being guided by the teenager.

Sylar wasn't prepared for what he found inside. "Oh fuck me! This _cannot_ be real!"

"What?" Peter asked, "What do did you find?"

"It's—." The sound of the bakery exploding cut off their connection to Sylar.

"Sylar!" Peter yelled into the phone. "Sylar!" His eyes widened as the flames engulfed the bakery and the surrounding stores and apartments around it. Chaos spread as people fled the burning building. His eyes scanned for his partner. "Where is he Micah?"

"I don't know." The teenager told him. "The explosion wiped out the cameras around the block. I lost him."

"Where did you last see him?"

"In the lab," Micah explained. "He was typed something into the computer screen before the explosion happened."

"Check any video feed you can access. He has to be alive. Claire will kill me if he dies."

"I don't see him anywhere," Micah's eyes scanned the monitors as Peter looked at the havoc below him.

"Me either." Peter closed his eyes and prayed that the man didn't die in the explosion. He opened his eyes and inhaled before he started on Plan K. "Keep looking. I have to get to Claire. Call me if—when—call me _when_ you find him."

"Will do."

Peter flew off the building and straight towards the penthouse. He tried phoning Matt but dropped his phone in his haste to get to Claire. "Fuck!" He landed on the balcony and ran inside. He found Matt and Claire watching _Night of the Living Dead_ on the television.

Matt noticed him in his peripheral vision. "What happened?"

"Plan K," Peter told him as he ran towards the room that held Noah Bennet.

"We need to move now," Matt grabbed Claire's arm and pulled her from the couch. "Get your shoes and coat on. I will be back in a minute with our bag."

"Where's Sylar?" Claire asked.

Grief flashed across his face at the news before his face hardened. "No time," Matt yelled as ran into his room to grab the envelope. He stuffed it into the backpack he had stashed in the closet.

Claire's heart stopped beating when she saw the pain in his face. She followed him. "Where is Sylar?" she demanded an answer. She glanced at Peter who was in the process of releasing her father from his restraints. "What are you doing?" She tried to ignore the pained expression her father gave her. It reminded her of when she was five years old and he told her that her cat had died.

"What's necessary," Peter told Claire as he freed Noah.

"We don't have time for this," Matt said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her down the hallway.

"I'm not leaving until one of you tells me what the hell is going on!" She saw her mom grabbing her emergency exit bag that she prepared with Sylar a few weeks ago. She was getting worried. Sylar would be here to see her off, to say goodbye. Something was horribly wrong. "Where the hell is my husband!" She practically growled when she saw them exchange looks. "I don't care if you are faster and stronger than me, if one of you don't tell me when the fuck my husband is right now I'm going to beat it out of you!"

"He's dead Claire," Matt choked out. He knew his best friend was dead the instant Peter said Plan K. Plans C, K, R, U, X, and Z were developed by Sylar incase of his death. Matt never thought Sylar would be a causality in this war with Danko. He was sure that Peter or himself would be the ones to be killed over Sylar.

Claire froze at his words as the last moment she saw him washed over her.

_Last night_

_Claire was in her favorite spot in the whole universe, in her lovers arms, wrapped in his tight embrace. They legs were tangled together and she could feel his fingers run through her hair. "Nothing can compare to this feeling I get when I'm in your arms," she mumbled into his chest, "Not even all the glories of heaven could compare to this. If I died today, I'd miss this the most." She felt his hand move from her hair to her back and he pulled her into a tighter embrace._

"_Don't say that," Sylar said, "I'd die before I'd let anything happen to you."_

"_And I'd die without you," she told him._

"_No, you have to live Claire," he whispered into her brow before he gave her temple a chaste kiss, "Our child needs you to survive."_

"_The baby needs its father as well," Claire said. She hated it when he talked like this, like he knew he was going to die on her and not come back._

"_I know," he kissed her temple again, "And you know I would do everything in my power to spend everyday with you and the bean."_

_Claire leaned up and kissed him. She rested her head back on his chest and they sat there in silence. She thought the topic was over until she heard him whisper to her._

"_If today was our last day together—."_

"_Don't talk like that."_

"_If all we had was this moment in time," Sylar continued, "What would be your last request for our last moments together?"_

"_To lay here with you like this," she told him, "This is what I would miss the most. The tranquility and security that only you can give me." _

_He smiled as he ran his fingers across her spine, "I think I can manage that."_

"_But what would make this moment even more perfect would be if we were really married." She looked up into his milk chocolate eyes. "I would want to die married to you."_

_Sylar inhaled. "That's a little harder to accomplish in a pinch." He sat up and brought her with him. "I would need some time to get all that together, license and stuff."_

"_I know sweetheart," she smiled at him, "but remember we have all the time in the world." Her smile grew at the wicked grin that appeared on his face._

"_That we do," he leaned down and kissed her again. He pulled away and as he did he took her wedding band with her._

"_Hey!" she shouted at him as she tried to get it back, "Just because it's not legal doesn't mean you can take away my wedding band."_

"_Trust me," he told her. He smiled when she dropped her hand. He pulled his ring off his finger and handed to a confused Claire. "I can't make it legit in the eyes of the law, but…"_

"_We can make it official in our heart and soul."_

"_Something like that," he whispered to her, "we can do the legal thing later." _

_Claire smiled as she looked down at the silver band in her hand. "We're never going to do things the traditional way are we?"_

_Sylar practically snorted when he let out a chuckle, "Where would the fun in that be?" He grabbed her left hand and looked at her. "I, Gabriel Andrew Gray, take you Claire Sandra Bennet as my wife. I promise that I am going to love you, cherish you, and put your needs and well being before my own. I will work hard to be the man you deserve. I promise to be a patient and loving father. I will protect you and our bean, as well as any other future beans we might have." Claire laughed at this and went to wipe the tears from her eyes, but he beat her to it. "Our children will know what it's like to be loved and will never be forsaken." Claire didn't think it was possible to love him anymore than she already did, but after those words, she did. Their children will never have his childhood. A promise from their father. "I'm going to love you forever. I promise to love you with each dying breath and my love will grow with each breath of new life." He slid her ring back onto her finger and kissed her hand once it was secure._

_Claire smiled when he wiped her tears away. She blamed it all on the hormones because she was never this emotional before the pregnancy. "I, Claire Sandra Bennet, take you Gabriel Andrew Gray, as my husband. I promise to love you, to cherish you, and to kick your ass anytime you say something horrible and untrue about the man I love and adore. I promise to work hard to be a good mother. I will never hold your past indiscretions against you." She was nervous and didn't know if anything she said made sense. She never thought she would have to recite her vows off the top of her head. She thought she would have time to prepare them. She decided to end it by echoing his words. "I'm going to love you forever. I promise to love you with each dying breath and my love will grow with each breath of new life." She slid his finger onto his hand and kissed his hand as well._

"_With absolutely no power or authority granted to me, I now pronounce us man and wife."_

_She laughed. "Are you going to kiss your bride now my love?"_

_He gave her a wicked grin before he crashed his lips against hers._

_Claire pulled him down on the bed with her. She was completely happy in this moment in time. Sure, they still weren't legally married but her mind, body, and soul was married to this man. It was all that mattered; after all, they had all the time in the world to be legally married._

Claire shook her head as the memory faded. She was so naïve. They were so reckless and stupid to think they had all the time in the world. Claire wiped the tears from her eyes and cursed her hormones. "No," she told him, "He _cannot_ be dead. He can't die. We just need to remove whatever debris is lodged in his kill spot." She looked at Peter, "Where is his body?"

"There was an explosion Claire," Peter told her, "He was at the ignition point. I'm so sorry, but there is no body."

Noah reached her just in time to catch her before she hit the ground. He held her tight as Claire cried her heart out. When she realized who caught her, she pulled away.

"No," she told him.

"Claire bear—."

"No," she told him more forcefully, "You don't get to console me. Not when I know you're thrilled he's gone!" She threw herself at Matt.

He caught her and held her. "We have to go Claire," he told him. "It's not safe here."

Claire wanted to scream at him that it didn't matter anymore. Her reason for living was gone. She would be all alone for eternity. Then she remembered her promise to Sylar to survive, to live for the bean. "I can't move," she whispered, "It hurts too much."

"It's okay," Matt whispered back. He tossed his burner phone at Noah. Their emergency backpack was already secure to his back, so he just bent down and picked her up.

Peter, Noah, and Sandra watched as Matt Parkman carried a broken Claire from the penthouse. When the door closed, Noah looked at Peter. "What's the plan?"

"We kill the fucking bastard," Peter vowed, "slowly and painfully as possible."

"Agreed," Noah said as he took the gun Peter offered him. He might hate Sylar but after seeing how much pain she was in, he wished he could have taken back what he did. He should have worked with the man for Claire's sake and try to learn to get along with him. Noah might have been able to prevent this very moment from happening. He failed his daughter for the last time. "Catch me up to speed."


	22. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

**Chapter 22 Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust**

_When you were standing in the wake of devastation__  
__When you were waiting on the edge of the unknown__  
__With the cataclysm raining down__  
__Your insides crying, "Save me now"__  
__You were there, impossibly alone._

_Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?__  
__You build up hope, but failure's all you've known.__  
__Remember all the sadness and frustration__  
__And let it go.__  
__Let it go.__And in a burst of light that blinded every angel__  
__As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars__  
__You felt the gravity of tempered grace__  
__Falling into empty space__  
__With no one there to catch you in their arms._

_Iridescent by Linkin Park_

Matt turned off the radio station. He couldn't listen to those depressing lyrics anymore. _Christ, don't they make happy songs these days? _Disbelief washed over him once more. Sylar was dead. Three words that would have been cause for celebration a few months ago have now turned his world upside down. He never felt more like a failure in his life when Peter told him about his not-so-indestructible best friend—something he still struggled to believe. His best friend was _Sylar_. Sylar was his _best friend_. His best friend was _dead_. _Sylar, his best friend, was dead. _Sylar was supposed to outlive him and bring comfort to Mattie when Matt finally died. Sylar promised to watch over the little boy. It was one of the perks of having an immortal friend.

The quiet sniffle next to him pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced at Claire. _She must be a wreck inside. _Matt felt selfish. He may have lost a friend today, but she lost so much more. He couldn't help but wonder if Peter was on Claire—duty and he was Sylar's partner, then he would still be alive today. Maybe what would have saved his life was a partner that cared more about his life than his permanent death. Logically, he knew it wasn't fair to blame Peter; it wasn't what Sylar wanted. But his broken heart didn't care. It screamed at him that Sylar was dead because Peter Petrelli didn't give a shit about preserving Sylar's life.

"_You can't be my partner on this Matt."_

"_Why not?" Matt asked. "I'd be better at watching your back than Peter. He wants you dead and I don't. I am the logical choice. Peter will just get you killed!"_

"_I have a more important job for you," Sylar told his friend as he put his hand on Matt's shoulder._

"_There is nothing more important than keeping my friend alive."_

"_There is someone more important than me," Sylar said. "Someone you need to keep safe while I'm out slaying her demon."_

"_Claire."_

"_Protect her and you're watching my back," Sylar said. "My lifeline is connected to hers." He grinned, "Save the cheerleader, save me."_

_Matt snorted at his friend's corniness. Claire was definitely rubbing off on him._

"I keep waiting to wake up from this nightmare," Claire whispered. "Sylar would be here holding me tight as he whispered that I was safe, because Gabriel was there." She wiped the wayward tears from her eyes.

"Me too," Matt confessed as they approached the state boarder, "me too."

"Then he would call me foolish for believing for one second that he would _just die_ on me. Not because he's indestructible, but because he's too arrogant and stubborn to let death take him away from me," she touched her stomach, "from us."

A bittersweet smile and chuckle escaped Matt's lips. "That sounds about right."

"I just don't know what's more unbelievable," she turned to look at Matt. There was a desperate need inside her to lighten the mood—she could hear Sylar's voice in her head telling her that all this crying can't be good for the baby. "The knowledge that Sylar is gone, or that you actually had the upper body strength to carry me all the way to the car—without dropping me once."

Matt rolled his eyes at her. Apparently his best friend had rubbed off on her as well. "I'm not _that weak_!"

"You're not _that strong _either," Claire countered, "at least from what I could remember."

"Sylar and I have been working out every morning," Matt said with a laugh. "Five AM, every morning since North Carolina. He told me," he let out another chuckle, "he told me that no friend of his wouldn't be able to carry Claire's scrawny ass at least a mile, if needed."

"Shut up." She smiled for the first time since the penthouse. "You're making that up."

"I wish I was!" Matt told her, "So please bear in mind that, if you want to test this, I can't carry your scrawny ass a mile, so don't go catatonic on me in a time of crisis."

"Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure I lost all my muscle carrying you to the car."

Claire gave him a wicked grin, "I'm so going to tell Sylar on you!" She giggled as she thought of what he would do to Matt. "He's going to—" She trailed off when she remembered that Sylar wasn't here anymore to torment his friend's lack of upper body strength. Silence ate away at the car for a few minutes. "I guess it will take time to get used to Sylar being—" She couldn't say the words. "I keep thinking that I should know."

"Know what?" He prompted after she trailed off on her thought.

"In the television shows, those people with the deep connections just know when their loved one is in danger or dead. I can't feel—I don't feel anything. Shouldn't I feel something?"

Matt pulled over and hugged her. "That's just make-believe where the characters are at the mercy of some writer. It doesn't happen like that in real life. In life, there is no writer typing away at the keyboard. It's just people living day after day. Yes, some days kick you in the ass; some days beat you down so hard that you don't think you'll ever survive to see another day." He pulled her tighter, "But on those days when we get knocked down, we have to get up."

"What's your point?"

"Because it gets better—it _has _to get better."

"I don't believe that," Claire said. "Nothing will be better without him."

"It's gonna get better." Matt pulled her even closer when she broke into tears. "It's gonna get better." He pulled away when she snorted, and looked at her with a strange expression.

"I never thought that I would miss Sylar's obsessive need to correct grammar." She wiped the tears from her face. "I'd give anything to hear him lecture about how the uneducated buffoons are ruining language for the future generations. Then he'd put you on a corrective action plan, if you care to socialize with him in the future."

Matt laughed again as he shook his head, "Why did I stay friends with that insane control freak?"

"Because deep down, he had a good heart and made it worth knowing him." Matt pulled her into another hug. He rubbed her back as he felt the sobs escape her petite body. "I just want him back." Tears flooded from her eyes. "I need him back. He has to—he promised me. I hate these damn hormones; they are wreaking havoc on my emotions!" She pulled back and wiped her cheeks. "How can I do this without him? I can't do this without him. This was going to be his child. He promised that he would never forsake his child. His child would never know what it feels like to have an absentee father! He promised me!"

Matt didn't know what to say. He just pulled her tighter in his embrace. After a few moments, he regrettably told her that they had to keep moving. He pulled away from her and got back onto the road.

Claire turned her attention back to the road. Her fingers played with Sylar's jacket. She had seen it hung on the hook as Matt carried her out of the penthouse, and she'd grabbed it as they walked by and hugged it close to her chest. She had to have something of his to take with her as they ran from the city. Matt may have been Sylar's best friend, but only Sylar knew how to keep her demons at bay. Claire buried her head in the fabric. She needed to smell him—a familiar scent that was uniquely his and had brought her comfort over these past few months. She leaned back as the jacket wrapped around her tiny frame. She closed her eyes, and for a brief second, it felt like she was back in his arms.

* * *

"Peter," Noah yelled. "The news just reported another explosion at the bakery."

"I thought the fire was contained," Peter said as he walked into the room and watched the screen. "Did they find—find any bodies yet?" He was hoping that the answer was no—that Sylar somehow survived this horrible nightmare. Claire could forgive him for jumping to the wrong conclusion.

"The Fire Department wasn't making any statements yet." Noah looked at the younger man. He wondered how much he missed as Peter looked visibly upset about Sylar's death. It was unnerving that something they all worked so hard for, for many years—Sylar's destruction—was now a cause for mourning instead of celebration. Life had changed in the most unexpected way.

"They were about to look for any victims when the explosion happened," Noah continued. "They are speculating that, since the fire accelerated so rapidly, it is unlikely that anyone trapped inside the building when it first exploded would have survived. But now with the second explosion—if Sylar was struck with something in his kill spot, he couldn't have survived this. Even with that bastard's cockroach abilities, just look at those flames and the destruction. He would be in pieces." Noah looked at the younger man, "I don't think he'll be as lucky with this fire as he was with the one at Primatech."

"The fire melted whatever Claire shoved in his skull," Peter recalled the once villain's resurrection. "He could have survived it, but it would have needed time to melt. With the explosion..." He inhaled as he looked away from the screen. "He wouldn't have survived it," he whispered. Peter wiped the silent tears from his eyes and turned back to the mess Sylar left before he stormed off. "We don't have time to speculate about what might have happened. Let's work while we wait for the news report of any bodies found."

Noah watched as Peter stepped over the mess in front of him and started to work on the trap for Danko. _Sylar trained him well._

* * *

Claire felt fingers running through her hair. She swatted them away. When she felt them again, she let out a groan of displeasure. "Get your hands off me, Matt."

"Sweetheart, why would my best friend be affectionately running his fingers through your hair?" She could hear the mirth in his voice when he said, "And to think you were worried about Matt and me running off into the sunset to be together. Maybe I should be more concerned about you and Matt."

Claire's eyes snapped open. She knew that voice. Her eyes focused on the figure crouched down in front of her next to the open car door. Matt was nowhere to be found. Claire wasted no time in throwing her body at his, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in close. "You're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive," Sylar told her with amusement. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"The explosion—how did you survive it?" She felt the tears of joy trickle down her cheek. He was alive. It was just a horrible nightmare. Her love was still among the living.

"What are you talking about sweetheart?" Sylar asked her.

"There was an explosion at the bakery; you were caught in it." Claire couldn't understand why he was acting like this. "I know you and I agreed that I don't want to know what you're planning to do with him. Because I honestly can't handle talking about him, obsessing over his demise. I'm able to get through these days because you are by my side and I know that you will carry out my vengeance on that horrible monster. But there's a difference between protecting me and avenging what happened to me, and making me believe you died!"

She pushed him away from her.

"Do you have _any_ idea the hell you idiots put me through! I thought you died! I thought that my husband and father of my child was dead! My heart and soul shattered in that millisecond it took to process what Peter said!" She let out the sob that had threatened to escape the moment she saw him. Her lover wasted no time and pulled her back into his arms. She felt his hands run down her back that soothed the ache in her soul.

Sylar kissed her temple. "It's all just a horribly bad dream. Look, see? I'm alive and well," Sylar said with worry in his tone as he pulled away. "Are you feeling okay?" He put his hand on her forehead to check for a rise in temperature. "Do we need to get you checked out with the doctor?"

"I'm more than okay," she told him as she hugged him again. "You're alive and well. Part of me died when I thought you had died."

"I'm never going to leave," he promised her. "Remember, I'm here until you tell me to fuck off."

It didn't make sense, but she didn't care. He was okay. He was alive. It was all just a nightmare. She snuggled closer to him and frowned when she inhaled. This wasn't Sylar's unique smell. It was something else. Claire opened her eyes and saw the road in front of her through the passenger window. She looked to her left, where Matt was behind the wheel.

"No," she whispered. "It can't be a dream. It felt so real."

"Did you say something?" Matt asked as he glanced at her.

"No," Claire said softly. "I was just having an amazing dream and woke up to this nightmare." She felt Matt's larger hand grab hers. He squeezed it before letting go.

* * *

"Peter, they found a body," Noah announced. "They haven't released the identity. Most likely, they need to use dental to identify the person, unless the fingerprints survived. Initial assessment of the remains is male in Sylar's age bracket." Noah pulled the phone out of his pocket.

"Not good," Peter said as he glanced over at Noah. "Whose phone is that?"

"Matt's," Noah told him. "The one he threw at me before he left."

"You were supposed to destroy it."

"Someone's calling it—"

"Don't answer it!"

"It could be Matt."

"Matt won't call that number," Peter told him. "He gave it to you to destroy it."

"The person is calling back."

"Do you recognize the number?"

"No."

"Then follow the protocol and destroy it," Peter instructed him. "It's of no use to us anymore. On your way back, grab our phones from the brown envelope Matt left behind."

Noah went into the kitchen and pulled out the hammer used to tenderize meat. He sighed as the number flashed on the screen again. Part of him wondered if it was Sylar. He shook his head at his stupidity; Sylar's name would show, not a number.

With a few good hits, the phone was in pieces. He grabbed the envelope and pulled out two phones. They were labeled Peter and Noah. Noah went back into the room and waved them at Peter, "What's this?"

"It's our backup phones," Peter explained as he grabbed his. "These phones are our lifelines to each other. Every plan had a person assigned to a phone number. So depending on the plan, it could have been any of us: Sylar, Matt, Sandra, Angela, you, and me. Yes, he planned to have you involved from the start," Peter informed a stunned Noah. "But then you veered off course and we had to protect Claire from you." He couldn't help but to get another jab at the older man's attempt to kill the baby. Peter still couldn't wrap his mind around Noah's attack on Claire and the baby.

Noah lowered his head in shame. He couldn't look at Peter when he asked, "Plan K?"

"What about it?"

"How many of those plans included me?"

"Weren't you paying attention? I just told you that you were included in all of them," Peter didn't hide his anger and frustration at Noah's question. "You were in charge of Sandra's safety, with the exception of the plans that involved Sylar's death. You were to replace him with me. Then Ma takes Sandra."

Noah smiled at the thought, "I don't know who Sandra would prefer, me or Angela."

Peter shared his smile as he recalled the horror on Sandra's face when she realized who her traveling companion would be in any of the scenarios. "She was pissed, but for Claire, she'd do anything."

Noah hung his head in shame. "Even accept the monster her daughter brought home to meet the parents."

"That took time," Peter tried to comfort him to some extent. He was still pissed about what he did. "But then again, she didn't try to kill a baby. She _only _led Danko to Claire's location."

"We are wonderful role models of _what not to do_." Noah shook his head and looked at the phone. He noticed that he only had Peter's phone number programmed. "Why do I only have your number?"

"It's the only one you need." He looked up to see Peter burning a piece of paper before throwing it into the trash can.

"I need to know how Claire and Sandra are doing."

"You have the only phone number you need. We all have the only phone numbers we need." Peter set his phone on vibrate and shoved it into his pocket. "Matt is the only one who has all of our phone numbers because he's the only one authorized to contact us. Not the other way around."

"And Sandra?"

"No one's," Peter said. "She was instructed to keep it close and wait for Sylar or myself to reach out to her—if Sylar was still alive, you wouldn't have that phone; you would be sharing Sandra's." Peter could see the frustration on the other man's face. "Everyone is at a need to know from here on out—including Sylar. Matt has all the information to get a hold of people. It was set up that way in case Danko captured one of us. If we were tortured there would be no way for protected information to get into his hands. We wouldn't know it to accidentally give it to him."

"It makes sense, but I don't like it," Noah told the younger man. "I don't like not knowing."

"Sylar made all these plans. And we both know that Sylar excels in two things—"

"Finding and hiding Claire Bennet," Noah finished for him. A truth he hated to admit. Even though it was Matt and not Sylar, she would be impossible to find. Sylar would have made sure of that; he wouldn't trust her safety to anyone that didn't pass his competency test. What Noah did not like was being at the mercy of Matt Parkman. What if something happened to him? How could Claire know how to reach him?

"No more dawdling; we have work to do."

Noah inhaled deeply and looked at the ceiling. He really hated taking orders from Peter. Noah's skills and knowledge were so much more superior to his. But he'd swallow his pride for Claire. "Coming."

* * *

Matt watched as Claire pushed her food across the plate. "You have to eat something," he told her. "The baby needs nourishment."

"I know," she whispered back as she pushed the plate away. "But I'm not hungry, there's just too much on my mind. How can I possibly do this all on my own?"

Matt reached across the table and grasped her hand. "You won't be alone. You'll have me, Janice, and Mattie."

"Matt—"

"My best friend and I promised to take care of each other's families if something were to happen to us," Matt told her in a tone that let her know there was nothing she could say or do to stop him from being there for her. "Granted, I thought Sylar would be the one doing all the heavy lifting after I died, but a promise is a promise. Sylar set up trust funds for you and the baby. You won't need to worry about money. You'll have me and my family."

He squeezed her hand. "I know I can't replace him, Claire. That's not what I'm trying to do. I love you like a sister and I'm going to be the best uncle to this kid. Be prepared now, because Uncle Matt will spoil this kid rotten."

"_He can't be serious."_

Claire smiled at Matt before she released his hand. She turned towards her hallucination of Sylar sitting next to her, reaching for her fork.

"_Remember what I said about eating," he told her as he lifted the fork to her mouth. "I will resort to making small engine noises as I move this fork in an obscure manner, if I must." He winked at her when she took the bite. "There's a good girl." His hand rested on her stomach. "That's my kid in there and I want him to be happy and healthy as you try and squeeze his little fat, happy body from yours."_

"He could be a she," she told him. "And how about we fatten her up after she exits my body, but born healthy nonetheless?"

Matt watched with sad eyes as Claire grinned widely at the window as she spoke to a voice that only she could hear. Bittersweet feelings ran through his body as the ghost of Sylar kept her nourished, but slowly took her sanity as well. Matt felt an overwhelming need to hug his family at this moment, and wished he could.

* * *

Noah and Peter were working quickly to set up the trap. It was only a matter of time before Danko came after them. Noah stopped and looked at Peter when the news report stated the police had identified the body and are trying to locate the family to confirm the identification before releasing the name.

"We have a problem."

"We have many problems." Peter corrected him.

"Yeah, well, the news will soon report our biggest problem."

"We already know Sylar is dead," Peter snapped at the other man. "What could _possibly_ be worse than that!"

"Danko knowing when the news reports it," Noah said quickly. "He will know that we lost our greatest asset and ally in defeating him. He won't come here; he'll leave the city looking for Claire. Because he knows that we can't outsmart him, and we lost the only person who bested him twice."

Peter felt like a failure. All that time working with Sylar and he didn't see this possibility. No wonder he was adamant about Noah Bennet replacing him in the event of his untimely death—the man was the closest person in the world who could think like him. Danko would be coming after Claire and they wouldn't be able to contact Matt to warn him. Failure was too small a word to describe this.

"We're fucked."


End file.
